


The Two Body Problem

by Seasaltcornflower



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adam and Michael try to work on their issues, Adam is bitter but he gets better, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, F/M, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Post-Episode: s15e19 Inherit the Earth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:00:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 27,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28738389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seasaltcornflower/pseuds/Seasaltcornflower
Summary: Granted a second chance and searching for Adam, Michael must learn to live on his own in a world he never truly understood.After learning of Michael's betrayal and having lost everything, Adam tries to avoid the same mistakes and had closed himself off.
Relationships: Michael/Adam Milligan
Comments: 18
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _In mechanics, The Two Body problem studies the motion of two massive objects, with only them affecting each other and all other objects being ignored. In astronomy it predicts the interaction of planets and their satellites and binary stars._
> 
> Thanks wikipedia for being a good provider of titles, its so them

It was Heaven, better than Heaven even and Adam Milligan could compare, having been dead, up to heaven and all, y’know. This was way better than replaying his prom date over and over.

Michael had taken him to Europe. They started some kind of ‘church ladies tour’ and visited all the monuments dedicated to God and his siblings. The archangel had to admit that for a brief period of time he did come to Earth, mostly to spread words about Heaven and his father and now wanted to see how much they had prospered.

Adam had chuckled at the idea. “Isn’t it a little bit narcissistic?”

Michael smiled or rather his grace laid back against his soul, serene. “Maybe but I’ve never been too much on Earth.” Michael mused. “I want to know how humans perceive us.” Adam wouldn’t know how to explain the sensation of having an angel inside and so intertwined with his soul, even if you had paid him. He just felt it there in his core, living with its mood swings. No matter what Michael would said, Adam had always a sneaking suspicion that he was not the logical emotionless person he pretended to be. Days, years and even the recent events just reinforced this idea. They had time to talk about this though.

Not that Adam was any better.

He tried to think of something else. Adam marveled at the old streets of some well known village they were visiting. Everything was so tight. Very hot and overwhelming. Michael reached to him, enveloping him in his grace.

“Everything is going to be alright. I am here.” A deeper voice echoed in his head. Adam smiled. Of course he had nothing to fear.

If Michael was corporeal, Adam would have pulled him in a hug and do some public display of affection. He grinned wondering if Michael would readily take part in it or would be too prude.

His mind placed bets on the former. He laughed at his own private joke imagining Michael’s reaction if he knew the corny images jumping in his head.

“What is it?” Michael asked.

He dissipated the thought, guarding it for a more appropriate time. “So, we’re going to one of your churches, right?”

Michael continued without prying too much. “Yes, I came here a few centuries ago asking for an altar… (Adam could have sworn to hear a sigh). I had to tell the priest three times and… actually had to knock him on the head for him to do it.” He admitted with shame. Feeling slight irritation from his grace, Adam laughed at Michael’s story. Imagining him trying to repeat what kind of ‘house’ he wanted to a random priest.

If that was Adam, he wouldn’t dare to provoke the Wrath of the archangel Saint Michael by even doubting him though. (Well Adam could, but random priest absolutely not, perks of entertaining the archangel in hell for a thousand years, when they got in a heated argument, Adam _did_ get out unscathed).

He walked for a while until they reached to the abbey in Michael’s name. They agreed on visiting buildings dedicated specifically to the archangel. All the prayers and magic were bound to the him, so any of their movements would be drown in the mass, Michael’s actual presence attenuated. It wouldn’t properly protect them from Chuck but with Michael’s sigils and precautions, they would get by until Adam’s brothers found something. Or at least Adam hoped so.

He and Michael didn’t ask for much, they just wanted to live the apple pie life far away from all of the Winchesters and God and whatever cosmic threat of the day. It was not a big dream, so Adam prayed that the world would leave them alone. They weren’t actively trying to defy the cosmic rules or starting another apocalypse or some world ending shit. After all… the most selfish thing they had ever done was to mind their own damn business.

 _J_ _ohn tried to keep you away from this, hadn’t he? Look how successful he was._ Adam shut his own doubts down. Why was he thinking about that man? For the moment, nothing had happened yet. If Chuck did not care about Adam or Michael’s lives then Adam hoped he had forgotten about them enough to leave the fuck of them alone. Put on a bus, living their own lives, not mentioned in any future episodes. The end.

Michael’s voice brought him back the present. “Adam… Are you alright?” He had asked, troubled by his silence.

“Yeah… Just thinking about what’s happening right now. I’m… kind of afraid to be honest.” Adam admitted. He knew that would worsen Michael’s anxiety over the situation. (And he was right: Michael’s concern washed all over him). A part of Adam even wondered deep inside, if Michael regretted helping his brothers. If having done that put both of them on the blacklist. “I feel like it’s my fault if you’re like this? In hiding? ‘cause that was my idea to listen them.”

“No, Adam. It’s not your fault.” Michael interrupted him. “Don’t ever think you had a part in this business. We brought you in. You were never supposed…” He paused. Mentioning the past and Michael’s part in the Apocalypse had always been a sensitive topic.

Softly Michael continued. “You were the best thing that ever happened to me, Adam. Don’t forget that. I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t with me down there… I…” Adam felt like the threads of grace, retracting living the spots around his soul cold and hollow. Adam had thought they already had this conversation. Ok, fine, Adam was last minute addition and Michael had been an ass. They had made peace in the cage. Right? Michael had protected him in return. They had been through this. And yet, for some unknowing reason Michael had stayed until now.

Adam reached out immediately, running after the light and warmth like a man in a desert searching for water. He held on for the faint thread of grace, gripping with strength, all the fibers of his soul calling and for what was now almost another part of him.

Michael reached back, little by little, almost timidly for someone so colossal like he was, always fearing to hurt Adam’s soul, so small in comparison. “Thank you, Adam. Thank you for being here and allowing me to stay here.”

“You got me, winghead.” Adam whispered, trying to reassure him. If Michael had an extrabody apparition, he would have kissed him.

“Yes, I’ve got you.” Michael answered back. His grace soothing his body and soul.

They arrived at what was a very long queue for the abbey. “I did not know you had such a big fanclub.” Adam teased, looking at the masses of tourists.

“It’s more for the building.” Michael stated. Adam could see it, this was quite a sight after all. He looked at the sky, spotting the golden archangel with sword at the top. Michael. Dominating over all of them, yet so lonely at the top.

“Well they don’t know what they were missing.” Adam grinned at Michael.

With a snap, Michael flew them directly in the church. “I cloaked us so we wouldn’t be bothered.” He explained. Adam half listened, turning his head, left and right and all around, to the place. It was so huge and very cool, all the light of all colors through the glasses. Worthy of someone like Michael. In return, it was very daunting. The severity of the place could almost crush him with its rocks and pillars grinding his bones and shredding his flesh. Adam felt very small and insignificant suddenly. Like this fake room when he met with Zachariah, if not the Cage. Slight anxiety raised in his belly. He tried to distract his mind flashes of the cage. He had to focus on now. He got out. It was just a church he could get out.

Michael must have felt it, his grace wrapped tightly against him. “Are you alright? It’s fine if you want to get out.”

Adam shook his head, trying to laugh it off. “No. I can’t spend the rest of my life being claustrophobic like this.”

Michael did not share his mood. “I wouldn’t blame you. It has twisted Lucifer, even me for a while. I can’t not imagine what’s like for a human soul.”

“Well, lucky I got you, right?” Adam tried to keep his voice composed and light. These were just vacations after all. No need to think about the worst.

Adam nudged into a wooden bench, a little further from the visitors so he wouldn’t raise a few eyebrows if he spoke with Michael for a little bit. Wanting to distract himself from those dark thoughts, Adam’s eyes wandered until he fixed the altar dedicated to Michael across the room.

He looked at Michael, willing an apparition of him. He always loved to see Michael as a separate being, it was easier to speak to but also it made Michael more real, tangible and Adam could pretend to be able to touch him and feel him against his skin. As if, they were just two random dudes living out a very boring mundane life.

Adam secretly craved for it: the normalcy, the little jobs with its little every day problems… Though speaking and relating to others came with much more difficulty now. But if he could just have that with Michael, that would already mean a lot. Realizing he’d been lost in thoughts very often recently, he looked for Michael in the room.

He expected Michael to be serious and devoted, after all he was the first and most loyal angel.

Like the first time he met him, Michael always managed to surprise him. He was like a curious cat, waddling around the believers, peaking a glance at their prayers. Church ladies were like an amusement park for Michael which was… if you asked Adam, really funny.

His eyes wandered to another statue of Michael. A little bit different from the one outside. This one did not have a heavy armor but a simple skirt.

“You haven’t worn a crown and a skirt when you first appeared to me. I’m disappointed.” He teased, trying to imagine the scene.

Michael as always was quick to explain. “Those are human interpretations of me… but if you want, I can still-”

“This is a joke, Michael... But I’m not above suggestions.” Adam ended with a wink and looked around. The light was not harsh, cozy even, he could breathe a little bit and relax. “So.. Have you found what you’re looking for?”

Michael just hummed, continuing his inquisition, looking through one of the window. For a moment, Adam wanted to reach out to him, feeling the archangel to be far away. Farther than what his human mind could think of. He only saw the back of Michael basked in sun light, he shined as the gold figure but… he looked as lonely.

Adam continued. “It gave them hope you know. I mean in the Cage, you still hang onto Him, otherwise you would be like Lucifer.”

One blink and Michael disappeared from the physical world.

Michael’s voice resonated in his head. At first, it had been a little bit disturbing if not terrifying to hear a thought that was not yours. Also, Michael’s presence was huge and even violent for anybody but Adam had centuries to get by. Now he welcomed it. Now instead of feeling like he hosted a star sized nuclear plant inside him, it was more of a wrap of warm silk and light cream-like grace.

Michael once explained to him that the soul had several protective barriers. Like an atom. A nucleus and few stuffs that Adam summarized as ‘magic’ called ‘protective barriers’. The soul itself was powerful and unbreakable but it was raw like open flesh. In hell, demons broke those barriers and corrupted the soul. Lucifer had tried with Sam, Adam shuddered when echos of screams and flashes of the Cage ran through his mind.

Wanting to feel safe, Adam let go of few invisible barriers around his soul demanding the embrace of Michael’s grace and Michael answered immediately, slipping through the threads and clot of his soul. He took a pause to breath, his heartbeat going off rails, at the sensation of Michael’s grace in _him_.

Suddenly Michael’s grace got sharper around him, almost cutting but not hurting him, never. “Yes and what did I get in the end? A cold shoulder. No, if I survived, it was because you were here, Adam.”

Even if he still didn’t fully come to terms with Castiel’s revelations and having to betray his father, Adam could see that Michael tried to move on.

But he could perceive Michael’s wish to have answers from God but was reluctant to talk about it right now. Another Day. Surely. He tried to squash his mom’s voice telling him to never postpone something you could do now. They were enjoying some post-hell sweet vacations, the day was for both of them. So yeah, this could wait.

He cleared his throat. “If you say so.”

“It is the truth.”

Michael had this way of saying the utter complete truth of his mind, a little bit like Adam but whereas Adam was known for being a ‘little shit’, there was something really adorable in Michael. Or maybe that was love. Adam winced. Since when had he become this corny?

They did not talk of the cage or God for the rest of the day. Which Adam was glad for. After that, they decided to go sightseeing a little bit. A lot to see. This village was after all, known for its church, high up in a mountain island and the maze of steps and houses around it. It had a little charm, Adam could see why it was so popular.

Michael flew him over the sandy hill. Adam hadn’t been much to the beach. Growing up in a small town in Minnesota, Mom hadn’t a lot of time or money to take him anywhere but the local lake. Those were the best days. Though he could kind of say he saw one in Hell through Michael’s projection.

But living it was entirely different. The sea salt winds air up his nose, the weird way sands ran through his fingers (though he had to admit Michael had recreated this sensation pretty accurately or maybe he had played in sandboxes so the projection was more accurate? Who cares? That was pretty awesome). The coldness of sea winds. The flocks of seagulls flying. That was all new to Adam Milligan.

There weren’t many people and the view was breathtaking. The tide was low so he asked Michael to land there for a little bit. The sea and the land were very far. Adam could only see the wet sand and feel the strong winds against his skin.

Michael appeared next to Adam, studying the big chunks of wet sands in his hand. Adam, for his part, took off his shoes and started to run on the temporary beach. His feet were cold but he did not care. This was the opposite of the cage, it was big and sunny (albeit a little bit cold but it felt real not like the dreamscape) and they didn’t have to hide from Lucifer’s gaze. The world was so lively.

He felt like there was nobody, in the world, no Chuck, no Sam and Dean, no Heaven and Hell. No End of the World Ultimate Edition. Just he and Michael and the endless sand and sea water. There was nothing in his head but Michael and the infinite joy of sharing this with him. _Thank you_ _._ He thought to him. Michael’s grace cuddled and tickled in him in return.

Feeling very liberated, Adam screamed and laughed at the top of his lungs to Michael’s astonishment.

“If I knew this would bring so much joy, I would bring you here more often, kid.” He commented, clearly amused by Adam’s behavior.

“’feels like we are at the end of the world, winghead.” Adam muttered. “’wish I could stay there for a long time.”

“We could.” Michael replied with mischievous eyes and an enigmatic smile. As if they could do it on a whim, as if it was easy as snapping his fingers.

It could.

Adam tried to stay grounded, there was also many other reasons like papers that neither of them could properly fill because one was one big celestial being who did not even know what taxes were and the other is a thirty years oldish man declared dead for ten years. Also they shared one body.

He settled for the most obvious and simplest truth: “I don’t speak the language.”

“I do.” Adam ticked, Michael really had this way of making life simpler than it was, hadn’t he?

“I’ll think about it. Maybe one day.” Adam answered. Not wanting to sound like a pessimist, he tried to explain. “Honestly I’ve always seen myself settling down in some quiet town, even in Windom you know… I’ve never thought about all of this.” Honestly the place was so huge, the world was so huge. Adam could barely grasp at it. Yet for Michael it was like a playground. One he always watched from afar and never participated in. Adam was glad to invite him in the sandbox.

He never thought about it, before the cage, a tunnel vision of life had already been written in Adam’s brain but meeting Michael had been an eye opener. Of his size, of the world, he saw in the cage life through Michael eyes while keeping with his own perception and experience. How little it was, how fragile and sometime absurd.

He wondered how Michael saw him among others? What made him special in his eyes? Doubt crept in. Would his feelings go away once there were out of the cage? After all, nineteen years of experiences on Earth, discounting his early years, it only left Adam with what? Ten years worth of memories? A grain of dust for Michael, he could get bored of him rapidly. What could Adam possibly give him that made someone like him stay? Besides fast food, sex, a suitable vessel and telling him that his family was a bunch of assholes. After all, you couldn’t do more banal than him.

Michael gave him an answer. “It’s alright. You can do whatever you wish. I’ll follow. After all you’re my guide, right?” Adam smiled. It seemed Michael wanted to stick around as he said back in the diner. Michael was not tired of Adam after a thousand year in a cage. Four walls with nothing but the same memories over and over. Now out in the world, they could explore a lot of new stuffs. He would try his best to be the most entertaining guide.

He sent his gratitude through their bond. He could sense that Michael was a little bit proud of this feat. He tried to press himself against his grace, a little bit like a hug.

A guff of wind swept off their hair, living Michael a mess. Adam burst out laughing to see the usual very serious Michael so untidy. It looked good on him though.

Michael returned in his mind after a while, Adam deciding to search for something to eat. Hell, that would be a waste to be in a foreign country and not tasting the food. He would taste it for his mom who've always dreamed of travelling and collected pictures on their fridge.

Also Adam absolutely wanted to make him taste ice-cream when they headed back to their hotel.

“Taste it.” He insisted when he took a bite, wanting to return the favor of Michael’s earlier surprise. It was a classic chocolate flavor. Not bad.

Michael was unimpressed. _I sense too much sugar and air. The flavor of chocolate that you so insisted in only come in last. And I don’t even find all of the components present in a cacao seed, just the basic main molecule that you humans are so fond of._

He grimaced, disappointed, this was not what he intended. His surprise kinda went out of the window but Adam wouldn’t let that spoil their vacations. “Fine… I think they got us… But it’s about the experience Michael.”

If Michael was corporeal he would have tilted his head. “The experience?”

“Yes. When you go on vacations, you spend time outdoors and there’s an obligatory ice cream. Otherwise it’s not vacations.”

“That’s very specific.”

Adam only nodded and laughed at Michael perplexed musing. He loved when Michael asked him questions (which he did a lot). Adam Milligan, son of an overworked nurse, born from a brief

relationship (he wouldn’t even call it like that) felt a little bit important when he explained to the Viceroy of Heaven, what would transform a simple trip to an amazing holiday.

Honestly, this might be Michael’s first vacations in over… forever! Adam wanted to it to be special.

He decided to stop at a local restaurant and let Michael do the talking when he told in their shared mindspace what he wanted. It was pretty great to have a billion year old angel that could speak any languages living rent free in your head.

Life was good.

No, life with Michael was fucking great.

They went back not too late that night, Adam let himself fall onto the bed. Welcoming its softness after a day of walking. He knew that Michael influence had prevented his body from getting tired but the softness of a bed after a long day was always good.

He closed his eyes, relinquishing in the feeling of ‘being in the now’. Fuck, there were really out of the Cage. When he was starting to sweep in a dreamy state, Adam felt a weight next to him. He opened his eyes, to see a reflection of himself, yet not him: Michael.

“I suppose you have a good day.” Michael smiled.

“Can’t you tell by my face?” He smirked then stretched out like a cat, under Michael’s entertained gaze. He sighed and sat up. “You know… I know you can conjure fake money. But I don’t know… I kind of feel bad. I’d like to settle down a little bit.”

Michael looked at him the same way he did at the diner. “You want to go home?”

Funny he said that because Adam didn’t have a home, not anymore. He wasn’t sad, because now he thought of home and the safe feeling of it, Michael always came first in his mind. _I guess the poets_ _were right,_ Adam thought , _home is where the heart is_. “Maybe. Looking for a job and pay for our vacations for real. It’s a little bit unfair that you’re doing everything, I’m kinda useless here.”

Adam barely had the time to finish his sentence when Michael frowned and pointed at him. “Don’t say that. You’re not useless. I would have been lost without you.”

He reached to touch him. Michael’s hand was warm, he caressed it, drawing on the bumps of its veins. It was very smooth yet strong, unlike Adam’s hands (despite being technically the same), a soldier’s hand. Michael took his hand and brought it to his face, kissing it reverently. He can render himself solid but only to Adam when they were alone. _Only Archangels can do it_ _but_ _I am still learning to make it last_ _._ _Our situation is… very unique._ He had once explained to him. That was unfair, he longed to be able to hug him and show him to the world.

Adam brought his other arm around his neck and pulled him into a kiss.

“Come here. I want to feel you tonight.” After all, that had been a great day overall. He felt Michael’s grin against his mouth and smiled back.

With a snap of his fingers, Adam found himself naked, their legs entangled with one another while not letting go of Michael’s mouth.

Adam whispered against him. “Now I won’t complain about _that_ part of your powers.” He smiled. Heck, feeling this surge of magic did things in Adam’s body he never imagined. Blood filling his head making Adam light. Michael crawled to him, his thighs caging him, firm and strong and Adam grabbed his back to pull him closer, to feel Michael against him and getting both of them hard.

He loved it, the scent of Michael, it reminded him of woods and smoke but also of denim for some unfathomable reason. He felt like bush fire and tenderness of home. Sturdy and caring. Dangerous and soft. Adam loved it, the safety in his arms, the hardness of his back above him. He _was_ hard. So was Adam. He rubbed both of their cocks together, betraying his own control, buckling up in pleasure.

Michael grinned while watching him. “I never understood your sexual activities and why father made it the way it was, I found it repulsive to watch, all that sweat and flesh pounding into-”

Adam shushed him. “All right, all right, you’re killing the mood here, dude.”

Michael smiled at him, contrary to whatever angel might say, he could be quite playful when he wanted. “So teach me how to not-kill the mood.”

Adam smirked against his mouth. “Well, first…”

It was strange, not weird, strange, that Michael was adopting Adam’s appearance when he appeared to talk or examining a casual object that might mundane for Adam yet exotic for him or whenever they had sex. Yet at the same time he felt so different, looked so different from Adam. Stronger, firmer yet so gentle with him. Tiny differences, really but enough for Adam’s mind to fool himself into thinking this was another person. After all this was really another person. From outsiders they might appeared the same but to Adam, Michael looked like his own, a powerful being outside the limits of human’s comprehension hiding behind these glowing eyes that screamed: _mine,_ _mine…_

And Adam answered every time: _Yes, I’m yours. Yes_.

.

.

.

Like all dreams it ended.

Adam woke up, Michael ready by his side, he fetched his clothes, ready to start a new day. He walked around town, wanting to eat something. Michael was curious, wanting to explore more. They wanted whole day to be carefree as yesterday. It began good really. They took breakfast, sightseeing the village. Then the first screams began. Michael took over immediately. The inhabitants started to turn into smoke. What was going on? Panic seized him, real fear, he hadn’t felt that since he left the cage.

Suddenly the world shifted under his feet. Michael had taken flight. It was a weird sight he still had to get the hang of. The view of the world twisting at the speed of Michael’s huge wings. He had sworn to see the eastern coast when they landed in another place. In fact they landed everywhere as fast as possible. Michael was erratic and Adam was getting dizzy. He could feel Michael’s panic threatening to swallow him whole. They stopped mid sky and Adam held his breath as he prepared himself to take a hard blow when Michael passed through the wall. Adam had barely the time to register where they were when he felt like his senses were disappearing in just _seconds_.

_Hey, Michael, maybe we shou-_

Adam had barely had the time to say his phrase when his mind stopped and everything went black. A cloudy storm severed the connection between Adam’s soul and Michael’s grace. He did not even have the time to mourn or to panic at the wound inside that Adam couldn’t even think or comprehend what was happening. The last thing he registered was a piercing sound of Michael’s real voice and the dread in his grace. Even that disappeared in a second.

Nothing.

.

.

.

The first thing Adam noticed was the brightness. He blinked once, twice, readjusting his eyes. Everything was so loud. Like when he came back from hell. _What happened? Wha- I was with Michael. We were talking about fees if I ever went back to school. Then… Then what?_ _I was in that village then… Where??_

 _Michael?_ He asked, but where there was a huge, looming presence in his head, there was now loud silence. _Micha_ _el?_ Nothing. Michael was not there anymore. _Michael?!_

Had he returned to heaven? Why didn’t tell him? No. He would have told him. Adam looked around him to feel the same salty sea air on his nose. He was back in the village and everybody seemed to go on with their lives as if nothing had happened.

What happened? And the smoke… was it God?

Adam went immediately to the abbey but realized he had no money. So he stayed outside, dropping to his knees at the risk of being taken for a complete insane devout and prayed.

 _Michael, if you hear me, please… Answer me. You promised to be there. Please, don’t leave me… Michael…_ _Can you hear me?_ _S_ _omething happened?_

Adam prayed to Michael, for a long time. He was met with silence. The sun was set, his body was getting cold from the sea winds. Adam was freezing.

Michael was not answering.

Something had definitely happened.

Adam realized that the only people who could answer all of his questions were his brothers. He set his new quest to find them. He needed… Fuck. He was in Europe, with no idea to speak the language and no money. No passports. How was he going home? _Think, Adam. C’mon you’re a bio major and you’ve been to the scouts and in fucking hell for ten years._ _This situation_ _is like a walk in the park..._

He remembered, his brothers were accompanied by an angel. Castiel. The angel had prayed to Michael. Would the angel answer to him too? They weren’t much on good terms. However, Adam could feel that he was doing what he thought his best. So Adam prayed to Castiel. He did not know much about praying, mom wasn’t a believer and no need to pray when you have an Archangel inside of you. So the words were maybe a little bit awkward, way to much like a bunch of teenagers trying to summon a demon in a bad horror movie, but at least his heart was here.

“ _Castiel. Are you there? Can you hear me?”_

“ _Castiel. I need answers._ _O_ _nly you and my brothers can answer them. Please, Castiel.”_

…

Adam had thought to hallucinate a sigh. Then an answer.

“ _Where are you?”_ Castiel asked.

Adam tried his best to repeat the name of the place where they'd been.

“ _Got it_ _.”_

“Adam.” He turned to the voice behind him. Castiel, the angel in the same trench coat for a decade. “How have you been?”

“What happened Castiel? Where is Michael?” His eyes widened at Michael’s name. Before Adam could even got up on his feet, Castiel went straight to him and put his fingers on head.

A blink later, Adam was in the bunker. He got up, trying to stabilize at the brutal change of scene. Castiel was making coffee. “You’re cold. Have a drink.” He had said. His eyes wouldn’t leave his hands and the mug, not willing to look at Adam. _Not my favorite drink to be honest._ Adam thought tiredly.

His joints were sore, his whole body shivering and welcoming the warmth of the bunker and his head hurting. Yet his heart wouldn’t stop hammering in his chest, blood pounding in his skull.

Everything happened so rapidly? His brain did not have the time to process all of it. One second he was with Michael then the other he was alone. Where was he?

The heavy silence was interrupted when Dean and Sam came into the kitchen. Sam was the first to speak. “Adam? Is that you? You’re alive?” Adam narrowed his eyes, his suspicions confirmed. _So, something had_ _definitely_ _happened._ _Had they defeated God?_

Adam had not know how he found the strength to still crack a light joke. His lips twisting into something like a smile. Adam himself was not convinced.“… Surprise!..”

Before he continued further, Castiel cut in. “Here. Coffee.” Adam barely paid attention to it, his brothers having all the answers and Adam wanted them now, but out of politeness (Castiel was kind enough to bring him here and was concerned for his well being), he took it to his mouth.

“Is he… Are you…” Began Dean, after taking a chair. “Is Michael still with you?”

The coffee was hot, scalding, it burned all the way down to throat. “I.. no. I woke up like this in the middle of the day.”

All of them, slacked off in relief. “Jack must have brought him back like all the others.” Commented Dean, glancing at Castiel, with a slight smile, he continued, taking a chair next to him. “Man, you deserve it.”

Whatever act of kindness Dean tried to offer him fell through deaf ears. Maybe because they never met under happy circumstances and today was not different. It had been a long day, even a longer week. Whatever preventing care or Superman Juice Michael’s presence had made in his body… It had disappeared with him.

Adam was just too tired to act nice, to play around the subject and pretending not noticing their stealing glances and how stiff was Dean in his chair. Why should he be the one to accommodate them when he was the victim in this story? Would they get uncomfortable? Good, let them be uncomfortable and squirming all inside. After all, they all owed him this, right?

Done with sugarcoating, he dropped the dreaded question. “Where is Michael?” He eyed the three men in the room. “I know you know what happened. So, just tell me the truth. Where is he?”

Sam and Dean exchanged a gaze. The kind of gaze that made Adam’s heart drop, he dreaded the truth. _Please, don’t let them say it._ One voice said. _Come on, get on with it._ Another rose _._

“Michael is dead.” Sam broke the news.

Adam went deaf, almost regurgitating his coffee.

Michael was dead.

How? Why? He was there five minutes ago.

If Adam closed his eyes, he could still feel the warmth of his grace around him. _Michael was dead. He was dead. Michael was dead._ _He is not there anymore_ _._ Suddenly his body felt like it was being lifted, his legs made of air. A bubble of emptiness exploded inside him. He wasn’t there. It couldn’t be.

“Chuck destroyed him.” Dean added.“Michael had betrayed us. He sided with Chuck in the end, trying to play the good son one last time.” His words barely reached the first layer of Adam’s mind. “Chuck was having none of it.”

“Michael is… he is dead.” He repeated. Took a breath. Fuck.

“I am sorry, Adam.” Sam said with his pitiful wounded dog look. How dare he. Even if he was not personally affected.

Adam put the mug back on the table, more of a violent bump than what he intended. “Quit your bullshit. You’re not sorry.” He looked at Dean. “You told me he betrayed you, how can you be sorry?”

“You cared for him.” Sam wanted to be kind.

“I _loved_ him!”

It seemed to shut all of them up. Castiel frowned, likely perturbed by his revelation and Dean shifted in his chair.

Adam continued. “He was all I had. My mom is still dead. I’ve got no home, no job and I’m pretty sure I’ve been declared dead so goodbye going back to college. And now… Michael is fucking dead.” What the fuck was he going to do now? No way in hell he would become dependent on them.

Michael was fucking dead.

His mom… he mourned for her in the cage. She was in Heaven and happy. He would leave her there, they would see each other again. But Michael… it was unexpected. Michael was the most powerful angel. Adam had felt safe. Michael felt indestructible. He knew a lot of things. He was resourceful. Under any circumstances Adam would associate Michael full of fire and grace with something like Death. Yet he apparently was? There wasn’t really an afterlife for angels wasn’t it? He was gone. What was Adam going to do?

With a gravelly voice, his throat did hurt, Adam continued. “… But it never mattered to you. We were just afterthoughts for a decade after all. We only had each other.” He stoop up, angry and turned his head to the opposite direction. Adam couldn’t bear to look at them, he did not know what he would do. He wanted to burn this whole place down, to bump his fists against the wall until they bled and bones broken. _G_ _et away from me. Leave me alone, just…_ _J_ _ust leave!_

He uttered with the most quiet voice. “I loved him and he loved me.”

Dean who had been silent from the past five minutes, finally came out. “I’m sorry Adam. You always got the short end of the stick.”

“Fuck you.”

It was Castiel of all people that asked the question. Adam expected it to be Dean but life always found its way to surprise him. “You and… Michael… Really? That’s impossible.”

Adam frowned. How could they say that? When Michael was the only person who cared for him. They all saw it, right? “What’s wrong with Michael? If this is because he is an angel, it’s high coming from you.”

Dean cleared his throat. “Man, you can do whatever with an angel, it’s not my business, but… Archangels!” Dean shook his head, bewildered. “Michael, man! ‘Thought ‘guy was monk! A haughty deadlier monk than Cas!”

Adam frowned. “Well, what do you know about him?” He asked simply.

His brother merely shrugged. “Aside from the fact he would kill us for daddy’s approval? Not much, I’ll admit.” Dean’s words stabbed him. _What_ _had_ _Michael_ _done?_ He did not dare to ask. What had gotten into him? What had happened? After the pain, Adam’s brain started to grasp the other bit of information. Michael had chosen Chuck.

He knew his father was important to him but after all Chuck had done to them. He had forgotten Michael in the cage. Left the both of them to rot. Michael who was so offended at the thought of Adam forgiving his brothers, ran off to his Father at the first convenience. How could he? _Michael… What have you done? Why did you… I thought you were done. I thought that we…_ Of course, Michael was not there to answer him. Adam bit his mouth until he drew blood, the pain was no comparable to what Michael had done to him. The pain of losing him turned quickly to anger.

“You don’t look very surprised.” Dean noticed, there was something smug and leery in the way he said it. As if Adam knew something. To tell the truth, Adam was completely lost.

“No I’m not.” Adam said. Each words cutting his throat. “After we left, we kind of avoided the subject but I could feel some… doubts and regret. I also felt a lot of anger towards him. He… It was complicated.” It was lame but Adam couldn’t find the words to explain it properly. He knew Michael had been struggling. That his father was important. Michael’s words came back to him. _You and I had been together for years. Me and my Father for eternity!_

Doubt crept into him. So that was that? Adam had been a distraction? That all they did together was just a game? Like when John came to his house to play Nuclear Family between hunts? He’d been used like that by Michael too?

No, that was anger speaking.

Right?

His feelings felt real though. He felt them, the gargantuan size of his love. It had been real. Each tendrils of his grace knotting with his soul.

It had been real.

But not enough.

Would it have been enough if he was there?

“Doesn’t excuse what he did.” Dean said.

“I know that.” He bit more until he drew blood, iron and pain foaming in his mouth. Better that than let them see his tears. Though, even if Michael had judged his father to be more important, Adam tried to defend him. After all, he protected him from the horror of hell when he could just torture him like Lucifer did with Sam. “I’m not trying to defend him but you’re being unfair, Dean.”

He recalled the memories Castiel had forced upon them. “Wasn’t it you who tried to say no to Michael to save your brother? Against the world? Wasn’t it Sam who freed the Darkness or God’s sister or I don’t know what, at the risk of dooming the entire universe? For you, Dean? But I guess, luck or Chuck was on your side back then, so it always turns for the better.”

Dean huffed, disapproving of Adam’s truth. “Let’s say we resurrect him, who says he’s not going to dump your ass for his father once again?”

He sucked on his wound, drawing blood. “Listen.” Since it was confession time, Adam took this opportunity to let it all out. He knew it wouldn’t come up again or Dean would be too uncomfortable to actually listen to the truth. “I asked for nothing, yet you all left me in the cage and if it wasn’t for God’s mid life crisis, he and I would still be there. Yet, for all of your mistakes… You got your happy ending. Michael… made one mistake. One. On part with yours and he is condemned.”

“Adam-” Sam tried to say certainly some cheesy lines about family, but Adam cut him.

“I’m bitter but I won’t try to take it form you, okay? I’m tired. Of all this shit. Of how my life had turned into a fucked up mess since I got back from college one day and got a copy of myself eating me like it was Thanksgiving.”

Dean made a face at his choice of words. Adam only shrugged and concluded. “I know you won’t bring him back. I know he’s too dangerous. I’m not asking for it.” He did not even know _how_. He was just a normal kid. Well, not exactly kid anymore, just a random man. Only strong enough to contain one big angel. He did not even know what Michael would do if he was brought back.

His mouth started to sting. He took another sip, hot liquid pouring over his wounds. It hurt. It was good. It distracted him from Michael. From actually saying goodbye to him. Tomorrow, he would deal with that tomorrow.

None of them had the right words to reply. It wasn’t like they had an excuse. Adam let the coffee scorch his wounds. Pain was familiar companion. Adam did not scream anymore. He did not have the strength to.

“I never was a part of the story. Nor a proper part of your family. After all, if I was, John would give me his name… I guess I never mattered. Not truly.” No way in hell, he would have accepted it. He would always wear with pride his mother’s name. John Winchester was not worthy. However for all the speeches Sam and Dean had made about family, they put the same amount of John’s eagerness in him. Which was only whenever it suited them.

And Adam wanted them to know that. They were exactly like their father.

Dean and Sam just looked at him. Adam really wanted to get out of here.

Castiel who had been a background presence up until now, spoke. “Adam… I don’t know much about you but… To even slightly change someone like Michael… you must, at least, meant something for him.”

Adam looked at Castiel. The angel. The other one other than himself who must have spent some times with the Archangel. Adam felt a (very temporary) longing, he was drawn to this angel. Scraping from anybody the little leftovers of Michael. Those who have known him, as if he could keep him by his side a little bit longer. Even if in someone else memory. “How was he? In heaven I mean.” He asked.

Castiel sighed wearily. “I never truly talked to him. There was hierarchy, only the highest ranked angels could directly talk to him. I’ve only seen him from afar. He was… cold, a little bit snobbish.”

He took a sip of coffee and continued. “We were worried about you-” he gazed directly into Adam’s eyes, angels had this weird way of talking to them, maybe because they could see their soul directly. “-in the Cage. Stuck with two pissed off Archangels.” _Not enough to get me out of here._ Adam preferred to leave it unsaid.

“Ha.” He whispered, his heart restless, his voice heavy with weariness. “I see. Maybe. I meant ‘something’ as you say but I guess I was not enough to make him stay.” Reluctantly, Adam began to think about his life. The kind of thoughts people got when they were about to die or a life changing experience or some crappy self-help books you got for Christmas.

If Adam could summarize his life in two words, those were: Never Enough. When he was little, even if he knew that Mom had to work to feed him, a part of him, a deep, tiny, illogical part of him thought that he was never enough to make her _stay_. Of course she had to work, there were people who were sick, he couldn’t be selfish. He couldn’t let people die just to have his mom reading him a bedside story. He was just a kid. They were people who were more important than a kid needing to be put in bed. So Adam shut up. Despite this, he loved his mom, she tried her best. Adam tried to be a good son. If he was good enough, then Mom would be less tired and spent more time with him.

Still, it was not enough.

Then he met John Winchester, his father, if he could call him like that and it was a disappointment. John Winchester had other things to do, he couldn’t stay. Adam and his mom weren’t enough for him to stay more than one day. But it was okay, he had his mom even if it was though, they were enough for each other. He tried his best in school to lift the weight out of her shoulders a little bit. Not be a useless drunkard like John.

Of course, John’s business had to catch him back and both of them were in the crossfire.

For a moment he got peace. His life was certainly very uneventful but there were good memories.

When Zachariah had told him about Heaven’s plans for him. Adam was surprised. A sword of Michael? Him? Some pre-med student? He got brothers? And they did not want to save the world? What the hell was wrong with them? So yeah, Adam had accepted to prove all of them that he was worth something. He would save the world so he and mom could live happy in it.

Oh, Dean Winchester was the real plan since the beginning. He was just an illegitimate piece of bait. Oh.

(Son of a bitch).

He saw it in Zachariah’s eyes or even in the scouts, the disdain, the uneasiness when he told them he got no dad, the smile and lies they told to him to make themselves feel better. Never him. _Oh, Adam only got his mom. It’s okay, you’re very strong…_ Bullshitters, all of them. He never needed John.

Not that bothered him. To be born outside marriage or whatever. Who got married these days? But now he knew why John left, he had better things to do. Sons who were enough. Sam dared to play it like a warming family reunion but he would never be enough compared to their family.

Never enough to be Michael’s true vessel. He was only good as bait.

He thought he was done for when the room was locked with magic and trembling under Michael’s presence. He had heard him. His voice was strong yet very patient. It could be a voice that belonged in his head. He looked at the light, not scaring him.

Michael was never meant for him. He was just a plan B, not interesting enough to be part of a story. For a moment he did not mind it, nothing happens to unimportant people. Thing is, he was related to very important people but Adam himself was not enough, never enough to pay attention to. Just enough to get the short end of the stick.

But then… Michael had taken him, he, random kid that was never part of Heaven’s plan. Michael. The Archangel. The magnanimous, dutiful son of Heaven. And he. Adam Milligan. Michael had been cold then. No better than the rest of them. Not good enough to be rescued. Then one day, Michael came to him and Adam gave him a piece of his mind about all of his crap. And for some reason, Michael had listened. And when he finally found someone down in the pit who cared for him enough to leave Heaven… Adam had felt important enough for one person. That was already enough for someone like him.

Michael in the end he… Adam never truly mattered. He got the memo.

 _Since do we get what we deserve?_ He once said, he still believed it.

Fuck him.

“I guess… Guess we’ll never know.” He added bitterly. He craved for blood wanting to rip someone’s throat. To make them suffer as much he had suffered. John, Dean and Sam, even Michael… Fuck them all. Fuck Adam himself for being foolish enough to believe.

He would get what he wanted then what? Going back to hell for all of his sins? Fuck no. There was no winning.

Going back to college? He did not feel like it, all these people with their everyday problems… that was not Adam anymore. Heck, he couldn’t really say he was nineteen even though he still looked like that.

The silence in the room was deafening.

“I got it better than Sam, I’ll admit. Michael… Michael was kind.” Adam murmured, tiny flashes of the Cage playing in front if him. Of Michael’s curious eyes and self-satisfaction when he showed Adam the beginning of the universe. His kind and fond smile when he listened to Adam’s stories. Sam turned his head, surely remembering his own torture. For a moment, Adam felt bad. Not wanting to defend Michael, which clearly fell of deaf ears, Adam looked at Sam. “How you doing?”

“I’m doing better than years ago… Thank you.” The room was once again silent, until Sam continued. “You can still come with us. This is our chance to become a real family. This time… yeah, after Chuck. I mean we are free now and-”

Adam snorted. “For you to forget about me at the first inconvenience?”

Dean jumped from his chair. “Listen man, we’ve been trying to apologize okay?! We know there’s nothing we can do to make up for what we did. But if you wanna start something between the three of us, that’s gotta coming from you too! ‘Cause I ain’t gonna sit my ass here and listen to you draggin’ us for the rest of our lives!”

Sam tried to appease him. “Dean-”

“What? We too, have all lost something, he ain’t the only one to suffer!” Dean stormed off the room announcing he was going to grab a bear, followed by Castiel. For a moment Adam envied Dean, for he too, wanted to grab a beer.

Adam never wanted to start a goddamn thing with them. It was their blood connection that dragged him into this mess. And when he got something positive out of hell, it, of fucking course, did not last.

“Adam. I really mean it. We’re free now and I know we can’t get Michael back but… we’ll be there.” Sam came to put Dean’s chair back. He gave him a sympathetic smile. “I think we all need rest for today.” Sam concluded. “See you later.”

Well, tomorrow would be another day.

He was free now. He should rejoice in finding a normal life once again, right? Except there was no joy, only an empty feeling and vague sorrow he refused to acknowledge.

Adam would find something else as he always did.


	2. Chapter 2

At first, Michael panicked. He flew in all corners of the world until his wings started to ache. Trying to run from his father, to protect Adam from his whim. It was useless. Michael was powerless. He could feel the thread of their bond turning into dust as Adam’s soul faded into nothing. What was the point of being the leader of god’s army, blessed with his father’s might, if he couldn’t even protect one cherished soul?

Angels were generally not creatures of emotions, archangels even less, but he could count three exceptions in total where he had been in this pitiful state. He knew the pattern, the endless questions and dizziness of the world turning around and drowning him, the same images playing with angelic acuteness in his mind, the last words of Adam echoing in his head, calling out his name as his life was snatched away from Michael’s grace.

He had felt something like this first when he was a fledgling by primordial standards, when his father hid him from the Dark Eater, telling him to be patient, to be good, to look after Lucifer otherwise Father would lose the both them too. So Michael hid and did what he had been told to do.

The second time when his favorite little brother asked him to stand with him and do the impossible. Rebelling? Why? How dare he to commit these abominations in the name of God? So he cast out the brother who had been his first companion and friend on his father’s orders.

Lucifer’s hubris was his downfall. Michael knew his place. They all said he was the new Favorite. His father did left him with some secrets, he was there when God had created the first stars and magic but he never truly connected with his father like Lucifer did. How could Michael resent him? He had more important things to attend to. Lucifer was difficult, so Michael tried to be the easy son. He was not demanding like Lucifer, he respected his father’s privacy. He was the Good Son. God loved Michael the most when he did good.

Finally, the last time his whole being shook with unfathomable uncertainty was when Michael had returned from Hell, the screams of Lucifer screeching in his memories and Michael’s arms bleeding from his claws. He had searched for his father in the whole universe only to find nothing. God had left without a word.

Michael had thought he must have wronged him somewhere and would settle his fault during the Apocalypse. He’d spent years praying to him and begging for his return until Raphael told him to start a plan for Heaven, his destiny and humanity.

Now, Michael was on his own once more. With no instruction, no purpose. In an empty world.

Back then, he had believed his father would come back once he would have vanquished the Adversary. His father would bless him with his smile once more and would see all the things Michael had done for him and how eager he was to redeem his mistakes.

(Now he knew better.)

(There wasn’t any Adversary, just another story to tell.)

(Both of them wanted to write their own little story.)

(Or at least Adam wanted to. So human.)

A part of him that Adam hated (even if he did not said it out loud Michael just _knew_ ), the angel who prayed for his father, that had thought that the cage was a punishment because he had deviated from what was written, wondered if this was all a test. A lesson to learn: that free will was never his to begin with.

(He had chosen Adam.)

Dean didn’t give him a choice.

(It was the best decision and it made all worth more because it was _his_.)

(God did not care. He had moved on from the story a long time ago.)

Michael was a fool and Adam could hate him if he had chosen to, Michael wouldn’t blame him.

(Yet, he loved this fool.)

He could count this as the fourth.

Michael flew as fast he could. Anywhere. Nowhere. And Everywhere. Jumping from continent to continent. This. This wasn’t happening. His father couldn’t be this cruel. Little by little everyone disappeared around him. Maybe Michael would be next. He flew and flew. Looking for him. There had to be some sort of realm where the souls were. He searched for him at every place he knew, heaven and hell, even purgatory or at the edge of the universe. Those vanishing souls, they all disappeared like that. Nobody. No Adam. Adam was gone. Had father really deleted them? Just like that? How could he do this when he had so much difficulty to defeat his sister and start to create? Did all of this mean nothing?

(He created with ease other Michaels too.)

More importantly where was Adam?

Deleted.

(Killed. Murdered.)

(Not there, at his side.)

It felt like his grace was being sucked into a single singularity with no hope of escaping, or maybe Michael himself, Prince of Heaven, had collapsed into a black hole like the brightest stars burning out their fire.

(After all they were his creations.)

So he took refuge where the energy was the most familiar to him. In a St. Michael church. Blessed by the prayers in his name, Michael could recover without alarming his father. He landed and let his wings cool down here. There wasn’t anybody. Not anymore. He did not bother to cast a spell or some protective veil over him.

Michael was alone after all.

He could rest.

(Since when did he need to ‘rest’?)

Panic was replaced with anger little by little. And anger was a good motivation. Anger gave you purpose. Michael was a creature of purpose. How could he dare to dream of life of simply existing? When it was so complex? Angels weren’t made for such intricate concepts. Right now it was to… it was to… survive.

(For what?)

After all, he couldn’t go home anymore.

Could he?

Where?

He couldn’t find his father or anyone. So he started at the beginning of it all. When God left. He opened the Bible, read all of the events, words about his father, himself, Lucifer’s rebellion and mankind.

It had felt safe, to relive the easiness and simplicity of his purpose before Lucifer spoiled everything. Of simply existing and doing what was expecting of him. No questions, no feelings, no pain. That was being an angel was about.

(No joy neither.)

His mind was… everywhere, images of the first atoms, first fusions and births of stars and the primordial universe, of Heaven, of his father, of Lucifer’s anguish and decay, of Adam’s face full of blood when he met him, to his laughs in Michael’s arms, to the ghastly ice cream he was so eager to show him then how his soul was snatched away from his grasp. He knew this would happen. Michael was not created for that. He knew.

There were words in the numerous books laid before him but it was blurry mess of letters. He couldn’t read entirely. Michael was there yet he was not here and everywhere in his mind. At one point, a survival instinct, a system wired into him, took over. Michael shut down.

He didn’t think, he didn’t feel. Like the church in his name, Michael was an inanimate object withstanding the storm outside. Silent. Cold.

What would he do next? Adam was out of reach. Should he wait for death and the end of everything? Let his father know he lived and waiting for his Wrath?

(Adam would want him to live. To fight).

After a few days, or maybe just mere hours, (he never had a precise notion of time), Michael felt a source of energy, much, much bigger than him. The Winchesters… they had survived. Of course they had survived, they were Father’s main characters. His beloveds. Adam was never a part of them despite the blood running in his veins.

(But they mattered to one another. Wasn’t it the most important thing?)

(Michael was just a puppet. The voice had morphed into Castiel’s: _A tiny part of his story._ )

They were accompanied by a third person, a child. No there was something else in there too. Michael could sense… It brought him a smile that was not really a smile. The child had a grace so familiar to the brother he had raised that for one moment Michael fooled himself: he thought that his father had brought everything back to the beginning.

He knew Lucifer loved to defy the rules but procreating with a human, a species he despised… He broke his own rule. Ironic. But Lucifer never really made sense.

Michael could have laughed but he was too tired for that. He only gave them something, anything that was near a smile.

This abomination. A Nephil. His nephew. The word sounded new in his life. (Though all of them were his nephews and nieces, bringing disasters and havoc to the world, easily incapacitating his angelic brethren until it took God to intervene.) He felt no family tie to this child though. Truth was Michael didn’t feel anything since the Rapture.

He remembered the child’s death through Castiel’s memories. His essence burning out through his eyes and mouth. Yet, somehow he survived. Did Father know that? Maybe not. Maybe yes. How? Why? He stopped. It was not Michael’s place to ask questions. His mind was heavy. Also, it wasn’t any of his business.

Michael never really understood these fallen angels and their copulations with humans. The act seemed so messy, if not dangerous for these flesh and crude bodies. Some of them fought with all their might to protect their abominations, others just let the human die and their “experiment” to go wild like Lucifer. Of course, in both cases, Michael and Heaven had to pick up the pieces.

(Then Michael had fallen.)

The child looked harmless though. Michael did not care about his existence. Michael didn’t really care about anything anymore. He did seem friendly enough but Michael had no interest in learning more about him, or the Winchesters or any of this. He was tired. He just wanted all of this to end.

“Gone.” He replied to Sam Winchester. Another voice rose, one who came to full life when Adam died, making him _doubt_ , making his voice much more bitter: “… Exterminated by my Father, like everyone else.”

(Taken away from him.)

How he wished for this soul to drive away the viper in his head that made him vile and rekindle, something, anything really, even a tiny spark in the furnace that was once his grace.

(Back then he also wished that his father would come back too. Now he…)

He sensed distrust from Dean Winchester. Michael did not bother. He did not give a damn about Dean.

Michael had waited for him though. Thousands of years for his birth. For his destiny as it was written. He had faith in Dean as much he had believed in his Father’s words. Dean whose life was supposed to mirror his own.

He wouldn’t wait for Dean anymore, not after everything. It wasn’t like Dean wanted a damn thing from him.

(He loathed here.)

(Adam was chosen. By him for him.)

That man didn’t trust anyone except Sam Winchester anyway. There was resentment too, because Michael hadn’t answered his prayers. Well, that was then and there was now, right? He tried to remember Adam’s words. To focus on the present or moving forward.

(How?)

He wanted to do something, in his memory. Adam had believed in this fight. Michael should too. He was still useful. He had knowledge, he had power. They had to tolerate his presence. They were on the same side. It gave him purpose. A way to go on.

Michael explained to them all he did during all these years while waiting for his father’s return.

(All the lies he told to himself. Lies he truly believed.)

Dean called him a Daddy’s Boy and Michael huffed. How dare this provoking spec of stardust tell him, he, Michael, who witnessed the birth of the universe, that he was still a _boy_? Dean was barely a fetus compared to Michael.

The Nephil interrupted him before he could go any further in his thoughts. Asking him a question he didn’t know the answer of. That child had their arrogance. How vexacious.

“You ignored us.” Dean had said.

Hadn’t he ignored Adam all these years too?

Somewhere, deep inside, he was glad that Dean Winchester kept rejecting him over and over because Michael didn’t know if he could keep that promise to leave him intact if he had to bear his irritating manners.

When he first laid his numerous eyes on Adam, he had frowned in contempt, same taste for cheap industrial food, the same sourness… Michael expected him to be difficult like his elder brothers. And in his own way, he was. Adam was sarcastic and didn’t hesitate to share a piece of his mind with very objectionable words and cultural references Michael lacked. That was a first in eons for the archangel.

As time passed in the Cage, Adam let Michael discover his considerate side, there was a sweetness under the caustic behavior whereas under Dean there was only bitterness every time they met. Too much bad blood between them. Adam listened and Michael’s grace heated with amiable warmth in his presence, giving his full attention to nonsensical tales about pirating music with an interest that exceeded simple politeness.

Now his grace was cold and only burn with sharp frostbites.

He spent the ride in an automobile. Sam and Dean tried to explain the situation to him, about a book. Michael looked on the outside dark empty word. Or maybe the world was fine and that was Michael that was insane. Poetic. Besides him, the Nephil scrutinized him, at his true form. He could feel fear and wariness from the boy. Was it because his true form could be terrifying for humans? Michael knew he was not a beautiful angel. The boy’s father was.

(Yet Adam had called him beautiful. He loved his wings and Michael had always put a little bit of effort to make a parade of them. He promised to himself to make them corporeal to Adam once they got out. But it was too late, too late-)

Michael looked at him. His nephew. Trying to see a little bit of Lucifer inside. He only saw the same brightness in the Grace. All of it only powered by a human soul. No wonder Father had forbidden them. The way the grace was part of their cells and the soul, closer than anything Michael could have weaved to Adam without hurting him, it almost made Michael reconsider his place before such raw power. Instead, he told him not to worry and that was their only exchange.

After all, Michael was not the family type. He had taken care of Lucifer and everyone saw the result. Raphael had closed himself off and Gabriel had run away.

(Lucifer never listened to him. Raphael was empathetic. Gabriel was always eager to show him a few tricks whenever he had time for himself.)

Michael was a brother, he did not how to be like Father. He had tried though.

He failed.

(Was it really his fault?) No, he wouldn’t think like Lucifer. _He wouldn’t._

They had arrived in the middle of the night in the familiar bunker. He sensed everyone’s and his own surprise at the easiness of their trip. No monsters, no earthquakes, no divine strike. It was too easy. What was his father planning? Why should he care?

Michael poured all of this grace and magic to open the cursed book. Sam and Dean Winchester, always so defiant, stopped for a second. Even the Nephil was in awe of his strength. He let them feel his power. Let them fear. Michael was not a creature to be meddled with.

He was the first creation, adorned with all of his Father’s might. When he was the not the First but the Only, Father had given him the mean to protect himself and destroy any attempts from Amara. Then there was the Second, then Third and Fourth. Michael had to protect them. Then protect humanity. Then to protect Adam. Which he failed on all accounts.

The book barely bulged. Only Death could open it.

It was strange. He felt more wary than usual. There was something about this child, the more he spent time with him, the more he felt exhausted. Or maybe that was all in his head. Because all of this felt so… ugly and sluggish. Michael couldn’t think, his mind was a fog consisting of his father and the Winchesters, Adam, Adam… the void left by his soul.

Then he felt it. Lucifer. Even Death couldn’t defeat him? He ran to met him. Lucifer was in his old vessel, his first decaying vessel. It seemed to fit him now. How did he do that? What kind of trick was that? Worse, how could the Winchesters ally themselves with him when he brought them nothing but trouble. Seeing that was useless to argue, Michael did the same, he put aside his animosity towards his little brother. It was not the time for that. It didn’t mean that Michael had forgotten.

Lucifer was in better shape than the last time he saw him but so much more bitter and pragmatic than the angel in Michael’s memories. One who was always so eager to show how little he had to do to make their father laugh.

(Michael never managed to do that. Father always smiled at him, sometimes with pride or satisfaction at a task well done but never laugh. Gabriel said that was because he was too serious.)

Maybe making others laugh was not his purpose. It didn’t matter if he failed then. There was no need to feel the weight in his core when he had another purpose. No need to feel left out when it was never your place to begin with. No need to feel hurt. These feelings weren’t made for angels anyway.

Angels were created to assist his work and protect it, like a clog in a machine. Everyone had a task. They had repay with reverence the blessing of their existence. Michael had once truly believed the wisdom of such life.

(Now, he…)

(Had he truly lived?)

Michael was obedient. That was his one quality. The ‘Good Son’. He was created for that. Not to be beautiful nor particularly funny but to fight evil and keep order. He could have that. He couldn’t make people laugh or create or sing in a choir. But he was a warrior and father entrusted him Heaven.

(He remembered watching them from afar, feeling very ugly.)

(The echoes of Adam’s laugh.)

It didn’t matter. Adam was not here. Not anymore.

Why was he here? Had Father tried to contact him? No way, he had been cast out. Lucifer was bad, he had defied their Father and… The voice rose up.

( _Hadn’t you done the same thing? Why you’re here…)_

Lucifer looked nonchalant about all of this. He never had any compassion for humanity. Michael had been like this back then too. If this happened years before, Michael wouldn’t be this… anguished. He wouldn’t be all tactless like his brother but would he feel less this… distressed. Michael had changed. He saw it now.

He hated it. He did not want to feel so lost and tired.

This was all for something right? It had to be. After all this was Father’s universe. He knew the beginning and the end of it.

Did all of this mean nothing? All these years? This eternity?

(Yet it counted. It meant _something._ He met-)

This was for a purpose, it meant to happen. It had to.

Lucifer always had seen the bigger the picture, he was the bright one after all. “For all you did for the old man, you got no better than me!”

“I did what I had to do because it was the right thing, to do.” Michael replied. That was true. What Lucifer did was loathsome and Michael had to stop him before he could do worse. Lucifer had claimed it was show their Father the ugly side of his newest creation. They all knew the truth that he did this for himself. Michael couldn’t let such… unworthy angel in Heaven. Michael didn’t even like it! But he had to be stopped!

Lucifer talked to him. “The man had no love to give…”

Michael was the First Born, Father had trusted him with his creation. The right and the wrong. Prosperity and Destruction. If Father created it was for something right? Michael was a being created for a purpose right? All that had happened, all these centuries, those wars and unspeakable things. Hell, Heaven, Purgatory… It couldn’t be for the sake of two humans.

Or maybe it was and Michael was the most stupid of all things in Creation. After all, who dared to compare himself to God? Who dared to try understanding his plans?

_Who is like God?_

Hubris was the downfall of angels. Of Humanity. Michael couldn’t fall.

(He already did.)

Maybe Michael hadn’t been mean for rebelling? Was that what Lucifer said? Father made everything. Rebelling was for Lucifer. Obedience was for Michael.

Of course. Otherwise, why would he fail at everything he did outside what was written for him? Because he was not meant for them.

Michael was wrong. Adam was wrong.

His destiny was to serve his father.

(Then why was he so sad? Were was the joy of his first years?)

(Why did everything feel so wrong?)

Father had taught him how to create and protect his creations alongside. It was only a deviation at the beginning of the universe. He succeeded because God had allowed him to. Michael remembered the warmth of his father. Michael had been blessed with it too and could only thank him in return. He couldn’t let Lucifer destroy the world his Father had created, the world where Adam lived in… but his father wanted to end it now.

He didn’t know. The thoughts kept repeating endlessly in his mind, making it ache. Adam and his father, Lucifer taunting him in the Cage, outside of it, even before then begging him to stand at his side. Adam asking him to come with him, asking what was happening when-

It hurt.

He wanted the pain to end.

(Adam was not important to the story… He was… A bait. A friend. A…

(He was important to Michael.)

“You see that now, right?”

Death interrupted them. Why was everyone jumping everywhere and being so loud. She had the book. The Winchester’s plans. Adam. The end of his Father. The end of everything.

This situation would soon end. Somehow Michael couldn't believe it.

Death died.

Lucifer took the book. How was that possible? Killing death had always been above an Archangel powers, Michael could even barely laid a scratch on the precedent Death. Unless…

He revealed everything. He never missed a chance to gloat even at the risk of ruining Father’s plan. Michael ticked nervously, Lucifer’s behavior grating on his nerves, his arrogance of acting like nothing had happened. He had always been like this, treating life as if it was some kind of game, other’s lives like entertainment. Adam was not entertainment. He saved him.

(Look at Earth. Look at Father’s work.)

(Wasn’t it what Dean had said? They were all entertainment? Wasn’t it why he was here?)

Adam was dead.

Everyone was dead yet it was just a joke for Lucifer.

Adam was dead.

He felt nothing around his grace. How? He’d lived billions of years if not eternity on his own yet. It took one human. Only one. To change everything.

Lucifer mocked him with some words lost in translation and the tiniest amount of patience that held him back burned out. Michael jumped on him to teach him how to _respect_.

(Maybe he was a better angel than Michael. A never changing, never growing, never _feeling_ being. A cold statue. _What they were supposed to be_.)

Adam was dead.

(Michael felt like he was too.)

They fought in a really stupid way that hadn’t been done in millennia and Lucifer got him. While he tried to scramble back, Lucifer continued to talk. He always liked to be the center of the attention but never this pretentious. A deadly mistake.

(Father had let him. He had always loved that part of Lucifer. He gave him his light.)

(He had chosen him _again_.)

(A voice like Gabriel’s whispered: _Mik_ _h_ _a is so boring!_ )

He was tired. He didn’t understand why, he hadn’t been that hurt.

God had reached to Lucifer and not to Michael. Was Michael lower than him? Was he that weak and untrustworthy? He, the first son, who almost burned his grace to create the hottest and brightest stars worthy of his father’s image. Was it because of his betrayal? Or something more?

(No matter how hard he tried, Michael couldn’t be bright as the Morning Star. The Favorite. The real Favorite. Always had been).

(Michael had always fooled himself. Deep down he knew this.)

(“ _The man had no love to give_.”)

Maybe Michael was too stupid to ever entertain their father. But he was a good son. He could trust him. If only he could prove it to Father. That he was worthy. The same, desperate side of him that always made Adam’s soul so… disappointed, took over all of his mind. He had found a new purpose. Maybe that was always him and the thing he had with Adam had been only a dream. A very pleasant dream.

Michael would try it. To be his true self again.

( _Adam cared about you._ )

Adam was… He wasn’t an idiot, he was… naive.

Adam was better where he was. No more pain.

( _Do you_ really _think that?_ )

Lucifer addressed the Nephil, inviting him to join Chuck. To go back to the one who cast him out and killed his son. Really. This was something Michael normally should have said. Even if the approach was revolting and shameful. Michael did not have all the information between Lucifer and this child but he could sense the tension. Lucifer hated their father and his own child hated him. They mirrored each other in a way.

(His Father and Lucifer weren’t that different. Maybe that was why he had always managed to make Father laugh when Michael could only get a pat on the head and a Thank you.)

(He was the fool that never belonged.)

They all wanted that kid power. The Nephil didn’t ask for anything. For a moment Michael pitied him.

A reckless thought came to him. Would his own child be powerful or even more as he was if he mated with a human? Like those disgraced angels? Would he fail as a parent like Lucifer? It didn’t matter. Only one human was worth it. One human enough to trust to… it did not matter. Michael was not made for this. Michael was a son and warrior. Not a father or a lover.

( _You are just fooling yourself if you think that Father cares._ )

This voice. This voice was inside him, the one who whispered, for a very long time already. Two paradoxical sides that existed at the same time in one being. That was the voice that was angry at the obedient angel. This voice loved Adam while the other craved for his Father’s love. This voice was so _human_. An ugly thought. A despicable feeling. Selfishness and resentment. When after centuries, Michael had begun to lose hope and faith. It had been born in hell.

No.

It had always been there. Only in hell, it had gained strength. When it was Lucifer and his vessel that had been rescued first when Michael had waited dutifully. The rage coating his heart. The grace almost bleeding Red like Lucifer. The first scream in his mind: _Unfair!_

 _Be gone, serpent._ The dutiful son sent back.

That was a disgraceful voice and Michael was a creature of Grace.

If he made more efforts, he would prove to father that he was worthy.

He needed to be more patient.

Of course, he couldn’t be the Favorite if he behaved like this. He would explain everything. He was happy before. It would go back to normal. It wouldn’t hurt any more.

Yet rage of that voice, the selfishness, the wish of being left alone, fueled the Archangel blade. He was tired of Lucifer, of his games. Tired of being the fool. Michael plunged the blade in his brother. He was not sad, not really, he had centuries in the cage to mourn once what was his most loved brother. Really, it had been another burden in a very long week. He barely paid a thought to what was once his destiny, where there was supposed to be rejoice, there was now emptiness. It would be soon over. Let him save his grace in the new universe and not make the same mistakes once again.

He flew to the kitchen, wanting to be alone. It wasn’t like these three made him feel welcome in their club. Not that wanted to. Michael wanted peace. That the questions that wouldn’t stop churning in his mind would actually stop, that he would vomit the dizzying bile inside Adam’s body.

Why had Father let Lucifer out? Why him and not Raphael or Gabriel? Why hadn’t he come directly to Michael? Why when Lucifer had betrayed him? Why when he told Michael to do the unthinkable, to turn the blade to his own kin… Only to resurrect him again? Why _Lucifer_?

Dean came to him after a while. He never really talked to much with the Winchesters. Too much history and the situation was not the best. To say, a decade ago he had sent Zachariah and let him use the lowest means to get a ‘yes’ out of him.

(In the cage, he learned that ‘yes’ meant a lot of things more. It was about trust and respect. That Adam entrusted him with his memories, his everything… all Michael could do was to protect all the things that made Adam _him_.)

(‘yes’ was such an important word).

Now Dean meant nothing to him. Just an ally at best. He did not need him, not in mind, not in flesh. Nothing.

He had nothing to say to him. Nothing to explain the rest of his actions. Maybe that was the lesson that was being taught to him. Michael’s fate was next to his father, it was wrong of him to think he could… like Lucifer would… It was wrong, he was wrong.

(Even though it felt so right)

He needed to go back to Father and apologize.

 _(“_ _You still care about that? After he left you in the cage?_ ”)

(That was not fair, Adam was so much more than that.)

_("Since do we get what we deserve?")_

(He missed him).

Michael was an angel. Not a human. That had been a lapse of judgment. He was never meant for that. He had failed to protect him.

That was all the Winchesters’ fault. If they hadn’t messed up, did as they were told to do instead of rebelling maybe Adam would have been still in heaven, not spending a thousand years in hell just to vanish like that. Michael wouldn't had to be so disobedient. Maybe-

_(_ _He wouldn’t met Adam, then.)_

It would have been better.

 _(_ _Would_ _F_ _ather still obliterated everyone?_ _)_

He squashed this thought. He would do it right this time.

Michael had learned his place. He must be on his father side as always. That was his destiny. So he prayed.

_Father. I have learned my lesson. I understand what you wanted from me, I will not be tempted like Lucifer…_

To go back to the beginning. He told him everything. If he was good again then he could go to the new universe. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes. He wouldn’t do anything. He felt younger than the past 6000 years. Was it the perspective of a new universe with new rules? To go back to his father by his side? He was happy then, he wanted to find this simple happiness. There weren’t many questions, many decisions, many mistakes and that agonizing feeling of failure.

His father had not exactly answered back. But Michael had felt less dizzy, now that he had a purpose. All had been decided, all he had to do was to _follow_. The choice had been made. For the first time since Adam disappeared, Michael felt reassured. The hole in his being did not suck out his grace anymore. Thrill run through it instead. A choice that was never truly his had been made. He wouldn’t have to worry about anything anymore since his life was never his to begin with. No worries. No questions. No pain. The familiarity was back and it was so _comforting_.

(… _You still care about that?_ )

He shut that voice that had taken Adam’s to make him doubt and walked towards what was always written for him and what he was doing best: to serve. Michael did not care about the Winchesters. Did not exactly care about this universe. He was back to his father side. He would help him to create again.

He wouldn’t make the same mistakes.

He wouldn’t care.

For the first time in around thousands of years, Michael laid his eyes on his father’s presence again. The easiness of home, so simple, almost within his reach. “Father.”

“Son.” His Father responded.

(It did not feel like home.)

He felt cold.

Why.

(Oh, you know _why_.)

He had to try harder. His father was back. Wasn't it what he always wanted? He was home. The burden of Heaven and the World… it would be soon over. Michael tried to summon the feelings that he once felt and discovered with terror there was nothing but deep, deep anger and resentment. The bitter and scornful sentiment of defeat. He tried gave him a smile. (Why wasn’t it wider? His heart bled.) “It had been always my destiny to serve you.” He said. It sounded more of a confession than a joyful reunion.

(He wanted to _vomit_. And he never experienced it.)

( _Fuck_.)

He was home. Fuck. He wanted to-

(That was a mistake.)

But the choice had been his.

He felt filthy and so disgraceful. That wasn't happening, should have never happen. His father must have seen through him and his lies, and his impure thoughts and was angry and disappointed-

(Why was he always talking about the Winchesters? Adam was-)

_Quiet, serpent._

“Father, no!” He begged. He was really sorry. For everything. He couldn’t even stick to his father.

“That was a lapse of judgment, I admit, but I swear, I-” Before Michael could even finish his excuse, his father shut him up. He did not know what to say really. That he met one human that had changed everything?

He was wrong.

Adam was not a distraction.

He was a point turning.

Father must have seen through him. He was _killing_ him. Burning all of his grace from inside. Not even. That would have been quick. Chuck tried to make it clean but it wouldn’t be that easy. His father never touched anything. Less plunging a blade in his own son. So he unmade him. Michael couldn’t burn like the rest of them. He was too strong. His Father, ironically, had blessed him with all of his might. It would take a little bit of time than regulars angels.

For a moment, he embraced the serpent in his mind.

_Reap what you sow._

Of course, it hurt.

It hurt so much, that it woke nerves that Michael had long thought never existed or lost with his brother’s deaths or Adam’s. He felt ripped from inside out. His grace bleeding out as Chuck teared apart Adam’s flesh.

Adam. Thinking of Adam had always made the world he lived in softer and brighter.

_Adam, Adam… Your body, the last piece of you. I can’t even protect it._

He died like the stars he helped to create, in a powerful explosion of angelic matter. His last thoughts were of an apology. For being such a coward, a pathetic excuse of a friend or unworthy of being his lover.

It was too late. Michael was slow, after all.

***

“ _Michael…!”_

He opened his eyes. Or at least he thought so. He only saw for the first time since he was killed. It was pitch black. But he blinked, once, twice, he could feel the movements of his lids. Wasn’t he supposed to be dead? A never ending end?

Difficult to grasp the concept of ‘senses’ when you were even less corporeal than before. He felt like drowning in mud, burning his lungs. But Michael did not have lungs. In fact, he did not have a body to feel, or ears to hear.

“ _Michael, please… I need…”_

Adam! Adam, Adam… the name kept playing in his head. Like a prayer. _Adam, I’m sorry, so sorry… I_ _am a constant disappointment._ _You were right._

He felt his lids getting heavy again, he was falling asleep in sorrow. After all, that was all he could sense here. Regrets and sorrow. No sounds, no light. Little by little, Michael sleep came to him in the form of Adam’s name on his mouth, like a lullaby.

“Hey. Wake up.”

Michael mind was in a mud, a deep dark swamp. His head was heavy. He blinked in the darkness, once, twice. There was light. The first thing he saw was the Nephil’s face. The Winchester’s abomination. Great.

He had not really the time to process there was a Nephil, Lucifer’s spawn walking on Earth and to be honest, to quote humanity, he did not really give a shit about it. The kid wasn’t a threat, so he let him go. Michael was in no condition to fight physically or mentally. Adam had told him once that was okay to think for yourself from time to time. And honestly, that was so restful to mind your own damn business. Anyway, if he was there it meant that he was killed too, right? Michael had always thought that Nephilim with their human souls could have access to Heaven, of course purged of their grace, they must have done something with him for the final confrontation.

The child tilted his head, and sat on his knees until they were face to face. “Do you hear me?” He nodded. His head was heavy like stuck in stone. The child waved at him. “Hello! I’m Jack.”

Michael did not know what to answer to that. He finally got proper greeting with a name. (He had hear it once in the car but did not pay attention to it.)

Jack continued without caring that was not the ideal place to start a conversation. “I’ve never thought I’d find you. Not that was my original intention.”

Of course. They were nothing to each other.

(It still hurt.)

Another feeling burned his core, not a big flame but more of a little fire, seething patiently: shame. He frowned. Michael did what he did, no need to deny it. It might have been an error but he was currently paying for it.

It sounded like the beginning of a very troublesome conversation. “Why are you here? Are you dead too? Did Father kill everyone?”

Jack looked away. “We have defeated Chuck.” He said, his childish face trying to play it cold. Michael was not even sure that could have fooled a human.

The news were totally unexpected though. They had defeated his father, the creator of time and physics, of this universe’s rule? They had killed God? He who knew everything? The three of them? Two mere, albeit very stubborn, humans? “How did you-”

“I have taken his place. I don’t have much time to explain. The question is: Do you want to follow me?” Follow him? Where? Heaven? He didn’t really have the will to do it anymore. He just wanted to sleep with all of his memories of Adam replaying in his dreams.

“Follow you?” Michael repeated and gave him a smile that said ‘that’s stupid’. “Do you propose that everyone you meet here?”

“No, I try to avoid demons.” The child answered earnestly. Michael almost sighed. Of course, he should try to avoid demons. Jack continued. “The Empty, this place-”

“I know.” Michael cut him. The Empty, the edge of existence. Where there was no creation, no destruction, nothing. Emptiness. Hence the name.

“I made it loud. So it’s kind of coming after me, churning everyone who is awake.” The Nephil grimaced like a fledgling admitting his mistake. Typical Winchester-like, touching at things that weren’t made to be touched at. Jack pointed at himself. “It’s on me, we’re trying to bring the angels for the moment. Those who are awake. Castiel said it wouldn’t hurt to have extra hand with Heaven.”

Michael had almost called his Father’s name. What did they do when he was in the Cage? Also, that child had no idea of what was waiting for him once he would be in charge. Also, he wasn’t sure some of the angels killed would welcome the change. But that wasn’t his problem. Not anymore. “Have you forgotten what I did? You still trust me? _Giving me a second chance_?” Michael sneered at each word, ending his question in a sarcastic tone. If he did then he was on Castiel’s level of stupidity. Maybe Michael wasted his only chance of getting out of here but… what was waiting for him? The only thing Michael could currently cling to was his pride.

“I don’t.” The child replied. “Trust you, I mean. But you’re not the other Michael either.” At the mention of the other Michael, anger grew in him. That was the point that made all of the voices in his mind uniting in one front: that Michael was not unique. That everything he had given was not unique but repeated, altered, maybe one Michael could be drastically different. Everything that he was… was just what? Nothing? Entertainment. He didn’t think about it enough to pinpoint a precise feeling of what he was feeling. Just a vague sense of deep betrayal.

Michael lifted his head, but a power full force prevented him or maybe his father had destroyed the part of grace that connected his main head during the shattering. His head fell on the ground.

“Well, what do you know?” He asked. Michael wouldn’t give this Nephil the satisfaction of his complete humiliation.

To his surprise, Jack did not gloat or mock him. Instead, he looked at Michael like a strange enigma. “You have a heart. I can see it on your face in the church. Did you love your host?” Ah.

(Yes, he taught him how.)

Compassion. These were the highlights of humans’ souls. That kid wouldn’t last well in Heaven with that kind of straight in your face attitude. Strangely, Michael smiled at that, it changed from all the formalities he was used to. He felt very young and at the same time infinitely older than the kid in front of him. “Am I that obvious?”

“You’re a bit like Dean.” The child answered with a cheeky smile. Michael frowned. He had hoped not. Jack quickly changed subject to his satisfaction. “I have another question: why did you betray us?”

That one question. He knew that one was coming. Michael was not sure he could answer it neither. A lot had happened today. There was a lot of conflict in his mind. To say, he wasn’t right in his mind would have been a little bit cowardly. (Though his mind wasn’t a hundred percent clear.) The first and most obvious reason came to him: “Because I am a dutiful son.”

The Nephil tilted his head, like a child trying to understand a new word. “You did not seem very happy.”

It irritated Michael, that a child could read him so well. To tell him the truth he refused to admit until he was shattered. “It was foolish of me to think I could disobey my father. I learned my lesson.”

“ Castiel does not destroy me if I did not listen to him. He is just sad and upset and explain to me why.” Jack replied. _Because he does not have the power to._ Michael thought but judged better to say something else.

(Because for some reason, Castiel _loved_ the child.)

“Maybe because you did not try to kill him.” He said instead.

“He never gave me a reason to.”

Michael frowned, he did not like where this conversation was heading. Castiel was not like his father, then what? Castiel had not been exactly a faithful angel. “What do you want from me?”

“I just want to make sure, you wouldn’t go back to Chuck if I bring you back. Trying to destroy the world or give Chuck his powers back.”

“What if I say ‘yes’?” Actually no, Michael just wanted that kid to leave him alone. Leave him in the darkness, so he could sleep and never think again, never feel again. Not thinking about his failures, how much he had failed Adam.

“Then you are exactly like the Other Michael.” Michael shifted in anger at the mention of the other one. With all the strength left in him, Michael moved a side of his body to show his displeasure. Jack was not impressed, merely moving his feet. “Living for your father. I mean, the other Michael pretended to destroy everything then God himself but I talked with Castiel and… we both think he did that to have God’s attention, like Lucifer and-”

“Please, stop.”Michael begged, finally. He tried to command his arm, raising it to Jack’s face, to make a shush motion. “I don’t. I don’t want to hear anymore about the other Michael.”

“Why?”

“Because!…” Why? Because it meant Michael was just a tool. He was never unique in his father’s eyes.

(It hurt.)

Should he acknowledge that? Who cares? He was already dead. And before that, it had been a long time since he felt like the righteous Viceroy of Heaven.

“It hurts.” Michael admitted with more ease than he had thought. Maybe because he and Jack were strangers, maybe because he had empathy or maybe he was already dead and did not care. Michael for the first time, admitted to someone other than Adam what he was feeling.

Fuck. He permitted himself to curse for maybe the third time in the day, because _fuck_. It really hurt and was so messy and unclear.

Fuck his dignity. What was left? He betrayed everyone only to be betrayed in return. Played like a fool. Michael was thoroughly humiliated. Fuck what this child was thinking. “I loved my father. And Adam. I tried to give them everything but I lost them anyway. Worst, my own father didn’t love me. _He killed me_. Are you happy now? Do you get why I don’t care about returning?!” No matter what realm he was in, Michael would always be plagued by ghosts and his own regrets. Better to sleep then.

Jack was unfazed. Maybe he could pierce right through him with his new powers. Just like God before. He looked away. Last remnants of his ego acting up. Michael wouldn’t let himself feel like a baby before this kid. Even worse, this three year old baby.

“Adam would be sad.” Jack said simply.

The name made the sleepiness disappear instantly. “Adam? He lives?” He did not want to sound so desperate but he was, he really was.

“I brought him back, I watched over the three of them for a moment. I could see how lonely he was.”

Michael grimaced. Of course he would be lonely. His so called brothers had done nothing for him, left him to rot in a cage and now… what did they expect?

“Adam…” Was all he could manage to answer, the name escaping softly from his mouth.

“He prays to you, you know. Even if he knows that you’re dead. He thinks of you everyday.” _So am I._ Michael thought. Jack continued. “I thought… maybe if I bring you back he can be happy too.”

“You would do that? After all that happened.”

“I’ll admit. I was curious about you. The one who kicked my biological Father. Castiel said that you were haughty and your rule was an emotionless and endless paperwork.” Had he? Well, Michael would like to see him rule it. Jack’s voice faltered. “But when I spoke to you… you were kind yet very sad. You are so different from the writings and the reputation. Even now. You were one the first angels who did not care about my powers.”

“I have better things to do.” He stretched.

“I can see that.”

Michael was shattered, his body in pieces, debris of physical form and grace crumbling around him. It was painful. His body was like glass threatening to come apart even in death only held by the will of a child. He was a wreck. “Had my state satisfied your curiosity?”

Jack only gave him a pitiful look. Michael continued, he did want to come back on unsaid conditions. To find Adam only to lose him again because the new god, had a secret term or grudge. “Why would you risk freeing a being like myself for the sake of a man you never met?”

“Think of it as an apology… for using you.”

“You knew then.” He said quietly. Righteous indignation should have taken over. He would have obliterated them for using the Archangel Michael like this back then. Was he only a mean of destruction? After all, he was created with immense powers and destined to rule over soldiers. Yes, Michael was created to be a weapon.

(Adam hadn’t think so.)

Jack scratched his head. “I am sorry. I really hate lying. I wanted to give you a second chance to make up for that. You can find your human. He prays for you every night. Live a life outside what was written. My mom told me that once, that I could be good and more than my sire was or what the world wanted me to be.”

(So did this Nephil’s mother. And Jack too.)

Humans were complex creatures. Michael could try that, then. Wasn’t what he planned to do with Adam before the Rapture?

They were free now.

“How considerate.”

“Of course, if you intend to threaten this universe, I would have to stop you.” Jack added. Good, he made the implicit, explicit. Michael knew the rules. That was good. An energy, his own, came back little by little. An optimism he never felt before. The stirring feeling of freedom.

“Don’t worry. I won’t meddle with anything anymore. I will leave this- all of this to you. You could say I’m retired. After all, I’m old.”

Jack grinned like a child conspiring with his newfound accomplice to hide something foolish, picking up Michael’s sentence in an attempt to lessen the tension. “I hope I did not make a mistake. After all I am only three.”

It worked. Adam being alive helped. Jack, being blank page and very different from what he was used to, eased their amnesty. “Such a God you are then.” Michael chuckled. He took Jack’s hand in his own half hand, as a peace offering, at the contact it healed once again. “Let me tell you a secret: even my father had been three at one point.”

Jack chuckled and pulled him up. “Let’s hurry before this place comes for us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That chapter was long and painful and very confusing to write, I'm not entirely satisfied and maybe that's how Michael felt during the entirety of 15x19
> 
> Also, Michael's actions did make sense in a way but if you tell me that his end was an attempt to clean up Chuck's old legacy in really bad writing and really lame, i would completely agree with you
> 
> Ill try to make the next chapter less long, editing this took forever lol


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A hunt going wrong at the beginning of the chapter, nothing too graphic but the Canon Violence tag is used just in case. It's over at "Today is your Lucky Day, Kid."

It was in the middle of night when Michael saw the familiar sight of a city on Earth. The Nephil was nowhere to be found. It seemed that the child had trusted him enough to let him roam free. There wasn’t anything to fear though. Michael had better things to do than set afire the Earth.

He took refuge in a tree, his grace hidden by the leaves. Michael had searched for Adam, trying to feel his soul but found nothing. It was shrouded. In fact, there was some kind of shield that deflected any attempts to locate him. Michael was both reassured and upset. Enochian magic worked. Of course, it worked. The wards on his ribs prevented Michael to know exactly where he was. And the wards Michael added further to prevent God from getting to them complicated his task.

He was in his celestial form, very much weakened, his strength even lower than a regular angel but enough to get by. The boy had told him he couldn’t do much, that Michael had wait to recharge his grace and regain his full strength on his own. He wouldn’t blame him, resurrecting an angel was rare, archangels impossible.

(Or at least, that was what his father told him but Michael now knew that his father was a liar.)

Should he call him a liar though? Wouldn’t that be disrespectful?

(Had he respected him?)

Well, the Nephil did more than expected, he should at least be glad for that.

Next: find a vessel.

Using a human body would let his grace recharge since he should not actively using it for everyday tasks. It would also conceal him from unwanted attention. Even if he expected to find Adam soon as possible, moving on Earth in a vessel would be easier for him to blend in.

That shouldn’t be too hard. Devout believers praying to him every night was common. Descendants of Cain and Abel too. Michael tried to keep his search on the continent and not tire himself out from jumping all around the world. He tried to reach out to the first then. It was a man living not too far from here. He reached to the location, it was a big room, quite modern and dimly lighted. The man was a successful businessman. Michael looked through the window and recognized the face. The beard, dark skin and strong bust, it was the vessel of the other Michael from Castiel’s memories. Michael would have frowned if he had eyebrows.

No, he did not want to be reminded of the other universe.

Michael left.

He kept looking, this time it was a family man saying grace at diner. It was out of question too. Even if the chances were high he’d said ‘yes’, he still had too much ties. His family would look for him and this could potentially create other problems for Michael too.

He kept looking then. A new face yet lonely.

An idea came to him. Empty vessels. Michael would go to look for someone near death then asked for permission.

It sounded terrible worded like that. Beneath him. He would have shuddered if he could but had no choice.

Desperate people coming praying to him wasn’t that rare. It was even more common that most of people would have think.

He found a vessel easily. It was a woman, around Adam’s age. She would do. Michael read her mind easily. Her devout family was killed by vampires and she swore revenge, giving up completely on the idea of God and Heaven and devoted her life to hunting. Living but not really. Waiting to see the cocoon of her childhood, to see her mother and father again. The vampire hadn’t taken two lives that day.

She had no friends. It was easier for her to lead a lonely life. Less ties, less chances of getting hurt. Only fellow hunters. She and a few (now dead) hunters went looking for the same demon and fell into a trap. Too late for any human help, all of them were scattered on the street, bleeding out, some were dragged to hell by hellhounds screaming and kicking. One of the hellhound’s claws were on her soul, ready to drag her to hell too.

Michael heard her prayers and apologies, begging for a savior or some kind of miracle.

He flew over the forest and saw the wicked creature yelling after her. “I’d never thought I’d get such a buffet tonight. Your friends over there are having a hell of time down in the pit. Now your turn!”

The girl tried to get up but could only lift her fingers and shift her ankles, it was useless with the amount of blood she was losing and a deadly disease took away her strength. He heard her cursing herself, yelling in her mind how stupid she was and should have let the illness take care if her instead of going for one big shot before the finale.

“Not like my life wasn’t already hellish like that…” She muttered to herself. “Why is everything like this?! That’s not fair!” There was something in her rage that made him consider carefully. Maybe because he had heard these words in a cage a long time ago.

Michael approached her, his light chasing away the infernal dogs and stopping the demon. She looked at him, with the same fearing eyes when he first met Adam.

_Today is your lucky day, kid._

He promised to accompany her soul personally to heaven where she could join her parents in exchange for her body.

“Yes.” She had said.

It irritatingly reminded him of what he proposed to Adam, even calling her “kid”. Thankfully the demon kept him from thinking too much of his actions. With one light, he burned away the awful hellspawn, shielding the human from further pain.

Smiting the demon and his infernal dogs was easy but it left him a little bit dizzy. His father had done his work on him, it was not easy to go back to his former strength. That would take a little bit of time. Using his powers only worsened his condition. He tried to conceal that from the host, she didn’t need to know that. Bathing in the fresh air of the woods. Michael sat on a tree and closed his eyes, letting the nature replenish his grace a little bit.

The soul inside moved, interrupting his break. Michael did not bother to put the soul in deep slumber. He was… curious after Adam. About humans. This one was good though less discreet than Adam. She reached out to him. _So… what now? We’re going to meet my parents, that’s it? You_ _promised!_

Michael sighed. _Yes, I will accompany you to Heaven._

Now for the troublesome part: Getting into Heaven without alerting anyone.

It should be normally fast and easy. After all, he knew all the corners of Heaven. He was there when it was built. With a chant and a snap he opened a tiny door and stepped inside. For a moment, his grasp over the body failed, he fell on the floor. It was the human who took control over. She leaned against the wall, letting both of them to recover. Good thing he let her be.

 _Thank you._ He said between two breaths.

 _Are… Will you be alright?_ She asked warily.

_Yes. It’s just… the magic it drains me. We’ll be fine._

They were in the lower corners of Heaven. Few unimportant angels checked from time to time here. His magic was low. He couldn’t put any protective spell for the moment. If it were humans, it would have been easy to fool them but here, in Heaven, he needed a stronger spell to get through angels’ eyes. He couldn’t waste any more time and grace in case he needed an urgent spell or his wings. Though, Michael could feel his strength growing bit by bit from Heaven’s power.

He’d try to sneak in like humans then. Avoiding guarded areas, trying to hide like a coward. Shameful really but nobody knew, he would be fine. He turned left then went through a floor. He saw a huge forest. Was it someone’s Heaven? He touched the ground and skimmed over the environment, let his grace roaming the room to search for its limits and a door to get out.

Michael frowned when his grace stretched beyond what he remembered and took twice the usual time to regain its owner. The typical size of Happy Forever Room, as Adam dubbed it, took only a few seconds, he’d been over the double of that. He stood up. There was no door, no room anymore. This was… this was something else. It was a different world. A much kinder, more colorful purgatory-like Heaven.

Heaven had changed. So much that he was at lost as much as the human who accompanied him. The sterile, well organized of Heaven’s machine was teared apart for a wild vast interconnected Heaven. It was somehow… more alive, less … structured. All the well oiled machine and his father’s work was torn up by this child in only a few days and Michael could not tell if he loathed it or loved it.

He decided he did not care about it.

Michael walked through trees and gardens, searching for a soul kind enough to guide them to an exit. After all, this was Heaven, there had to be some right-heart soul in here.

 _It might be longer than expected._ He said after a while, when the trees on the left looked like the trees from a few minutes ago.

He sensed panic from inside. Not his. Hers. _What? What do you mean? Where are my parents?_

_Heaven is not what I remember. Not anymore._

He sensed panic and anger. Humans were such delicate creatures, ready to explode at any moment or annoyance. _What the_ _hell_ _are you talking about?!_ _Who… Who are you?_ _You never told me your name._ _Is this really Heaven?!_

He felt her soul trying to fight his grace. Her soul wasn’t anything like Adam. Even their possession was different. Unlike his precedent possessions or any regular angel possession, he had let her be but that was it. There was no interwoven grace and soul like what he and Adam shared. He tried to reassure her but his voice came more commanding than he wanted. _It_ is _Heaven._ _It would only bring you trouble_ _to know who I am_ _. And trouble to me too._

For a moment her face appeared in his mind. The girl shared the same determined eyes as Adam when he and Michael had an argument in the cage. He flinched mentally. Michael was definitely… compromised. _Is this a trap?_ _Fuck-_

_I am the Archangel Michael._

Silence reigned in his mind. Good. Her soul was… momentary flabbergasted. She was afraid yet in awe. _Saint_ _Michael? The guy_ _in the painting_ _?_ _With the sword?_ _If you’re_ _really an angel_ _then_ _w_ _hy are you so stealthy?_ _Wait, they’re real?!_ He considered for a second to put her in slumber but relented. His father forcibly shutting him up was not a pleasant experience.

 _Because I don’t want to be seen._ He simply said. _I have my reasons. Reasons which I fail to_ _see how_ _they are_ _any of your business. And_ _yes, we are in Heaven and I am an angel._

_If you guys are real then why aren’t you helping us?_

_Because, He gave you free will and you are now on your own. We can’t save everyone. We only intervene when there’s a big battle against evil._

(Ridiculous.)

(Because Father didn’t care.)

_I see… Kinda dickish. ‘Expected you to be like… I don’t know… pretty wings and high fashion dress ready to kick-ass and be all Love and Light ?_

_We kick-ass, we are warriors after all but Humans can protect themselves, they are strong. You write your own story._

He didn’t even believed in it. Repeating the same words he heard.

Adam was stronger than he was.

(He couldn’t save Adam. He even failed in the end.)

(He was a coward.)

She didn’t talk for a long moment and Michael let her be. After a long walk, Michael realized there was still no angels in sight trying to stop him or on duty. He knew his status as an angel shouldn’t raise any alarm but this was _Heaven_ not some kind of human bureaucracy. He should still radiate enough presence and power to raise a few concerns. Had they also forgot about him?

It was also emptier than he remembered. There was always an angel in one or two Heaven boxes checking if everything ran smoothly. Of course, he had felt perturbations in the cage but this was much more complicated than he thought. What happened during these ten earth years? He cursed Castiel silently, all of this had been his fault. His emotions and stupidity. All of this for the sake of one person.

But what was he doing now? Abandoning Heaven. Wasn’t it also for the sake of one person?

(He hadn’t brought Heaven down.)

(He still left it and had no reason to return to.)

It wasn’t his business not anymore.

(Good.)

The girl spoke again, her voice clearer in his head after the long silent trip. _Okay, let’s say you’re Michael. You’re kind of celebrity up_ _and down_ _t_ _here._ _Your name is kinda everywhere._ _That’s why you’re hiding_ _?_ _You went rogue?_ _Aren’t_ _you_ _supposed to be the one beating the Devil?_ _Is he real?_ _Don’t tell me, you made a deal with demons too?!_

What kind of-

 _No._ Michael said though secretly amused by the girl and her intrusiveness. _You’re asking too much question_ _s_ _._

 _Well, I kind share my body for you,_ _not that I need it since I’m dead_ _but_ _… You can satisfy my curiosity in return, no?_ _You’re gonna play Christian Avengers with my body?_

Michael smiled, though he didn’t understand what was this revenge game she was talking about. He’d never thought he had such patience towards humans but some of them were really thought-provoking. He didn’t have the storming curiosity of Gabriel or the disdain of Lucifer and Raphael. Was it apathy? Surely, yes, Michael could say he was apathetic. He solely existed for the Apocalypse and the words of his father. What mattered was the plan.

(There was the fear too. Many fears.)

Now, there wasn’t any Apocalypse to care about. He just wanted to explore the world with Adam. But he didn’t want to come back like some kind of dead weight. He could start with this human if he wanted to gather information on how to Earth worked. Her presence was tolerable, Michael fought worse. In a way, it reminded him of when Adam and he started to talk.

Also, this was going to be a long ride, maybe that was better to have someone to talk to. Michael was done with being alone. In the cage, after the Rapture, he was left alone and… He chased the thoughts away. He would rather have a human girl who asked more compromising questions than she was allowed to than being left alone with his thoughts. These were the worst.

Michael tried to burn away the images in his mind and the anguish boiling in his grace. The Nephil said that everything was in order, that Adam was back. No need to think about the past. He would make it right this time. He had to do it right.

 _I have no desire of vengeance._ He finally replied . If it could keep his mind from overthinking then so be it. _Aren’t you afraid?_ _Of me?_

He heard her hum. _I’ve met a lot of things, Michael. Can I call you Michael?_ Michael nodded, she continued. _Not pretty or kind things, demons, vampires… even humans. You… you are far more kinder than most of them._

 _We only met_ _thirty-two_ _minutes_ _and twenty seconds ago_ _._ _You know nothing about me._

_Well, you let me talk and you actually listen. Also you made sure I find my parents when you can dump my sorry ass here. That’s something._

_It’s politeness._

_Most of people aren’t polite. They only think about themselves._

Michael paused at her words. It shouldn’t be piercing him. He willed his legs to go on.

(She was right. Nobody thought of him or Adam.)

Yet, his thoughts wouldn’t leave him alone. His cursed old mind conjured up the cold hard walls of Cage and one little hole he used to see outside, to keep him grounded, Lucifer clawing through his celestial flesh, his father tearing him apart even when he begged for his love, their hate, their love, the indifference and him through it all, torn and rebuild, Heaven and Hell and in between: happy and bitter humans… Most of all, one name stayed: _Adam, Adam… I’m sorry…_ It all passed in front of Michael’s eyes. A swirl of sadness and anger rose inside him like holy fire. He tried to keep his emotions buried, not letting his host feel them.

… _You’re right._ He answered simply. _People rarely care._

_Sounds like you know something about it._

Michael pretended he didn’t hear her and continued until he reached a garden with a lot of roses. A woman in a dress that dated from centuries earlier tended to them.

“Hello.” Michael said.

“Hello there, another visitor! There are lot of these recently. Do you want to take a drink with me?”

Michael almost hesitated to let the girl do the talk. He’d never spent much time outside Heaven’s angelic office. Few did. There was angels made for that. Michael was only in the upper office giving off orders. Raphael was more private and rather took someone’s else personal heaven than letting anybody see his personal room. For Michael, it was the contrary, humans’ souls and their personal heavens was too… lowly, little and informal, so he made a special office where he could meet his subordinates.

If Michael had to come back to Heaven, he would gladly spend eternity in Adam’s Heaven. Of course, if Adam welcomed him in his happy memories.

Though right now, he was a little bit stuck. Thousand of years yet he hadn’t learned once how to talk to humans as would an ally or… friend. Only one.

Adam was really patient he realized.

He didn’t want to be a burden. He had to talk to humans if he wanted to live among them. He gave her a slight smile, a little bit too calculated and rigid and certainly very awkward, that didn’t convince himself or his host. “Thank you but we don’t have much time. However I do have a few questions.”

It was however enough for the woman in front of him. “Yes?”

“Do you know how long Heaven had been like this?”

“Not too long ago but the change was a little bit brutal. I heard there was a change of plans up there. Can you believe that?”

_Little do you know then._

He kept the smile, it was less rigid. Maybe because he felt it. “We are a bit lost. Do you know any exit?”

She pointed to her left. “There’s a big road, most of our places are connected to it. From there you can find help I think.”

“Thank you.” Michael flew without hearing her goodbye. His patience was wearing thin for a simple walk. This girl wanted her parents and Michael wanted Adam.

 _There are billions of souls here. That means billions of different heavens. Finding your parents can be difficult but once we reached my room I can easily find them._ He informed her.

_You have a room?_

_I am a Viceroy of Heaven, of course I do. I just hope it is still in place._

_Why wouldn’t it be?_

_You’re too curious._

So the main road was still here. Of course, it was. The Axis Mundis was the central the spine of Heaven. He put his fingers on the road, letting his grace ran through it. Here, the road took them an end, a door to angel’s quarters. Backstage, to put it in humans’ words. Michael flew once again, from above he could a patchwork of different heavens merging in tiny colorful dots of varying size. Gone were the days of perfectly cut, same sized rooms, well interlocked into each other, playing the same memory again and again. It was more of Earth there than it was before.

There was the door. Well not a door exactly. A dark tunnel made of woods and dead leaves, he could feel the girl’s soul recoiling in fear. At the end of it a simple door, using his grace Michael opened it. There they were, in a white, clean corridor. Angel’s Backstage. The girl’s fear changed to astonishment then confusion.

Now the most difficult part was to avoid any other angels and get to his room. He had no choice but to cast a spell that made him not invisible (he was too big and low on grace for that) but more mundane. Things were easier than expected. Heaven’s backstage was also empty, he realized with anxiety. What happened? Was it because of all these wars? All the deaths of his siblings?

Taking a few steps in the corridors he’d spent the eternity in, what he felt in his grace did not match the reaction he expected. Michael thought he would be a little bit nostalgic of it. After all, he had spent most of his existence here. That was home.

But Michael felt nothing. Not even a little bit of regret, just sad bitterness. Those cold lights, clean cut edges, it… almost cut him too. Where there was the warm light of his father back then, now there was just endless bureaucracy and repeated tasks. All of that for nothing in the end.

(Was it always like that?)

These walls could swallow him, another cage in an another place. A labyrinth of unending white corridors. Maybe that was the thousand year in hell, maybe that was just Adam but Michael craved vast landscapes, more than anything he craved freedom. Even if freedom meant musty cheap rooms with crumbling paint. Freedom was also kisses and whispers under the blanket during a lazy afternoon.

Michael’s apartment was not that far. The door still looked the same, still closed from that day when Zachariah called him to meet his destiny. Only Michael’s grace can unlock these doors. Even Raphael couldn’t.

Checking and casting an illusion, Michael had finally entered to his room after a decade. Or millennia if he counted Hell’s time.

He slowly pushed the door and quickly closed it behind him. Nothing had changed. No dust, nothing rotten as if suspended in time. As if he never left. After all, there wasn’t anything alive in Heaven. He spent much of his time there when giving out orders. He did not dare to go to the throne’s room, even if that was not far. It was his Father’s place, not his. He walked to the door separating the second room from this one, carefully avoiding the religious paintings all over the wall. He stopped, finally casting a glance at the first room. He never truly touched any pieces of furniture in that room. It was purely decorative, taking inspiration from human’s houses.

In his apartment, there was a main room where he met the highest ranked angels like Zachariah then there was a door that led to his private room with a terminal monitoring all of Heaven’s organization. Nobody ever came to that room. It was one of the few things that exclusively belonged to Michael.

There wasn’t anything special inside that room really. Angels only have their missions after all. There was garrisons, sharing a common apartment together. Archangels were allowed to have their own loft, representing their status.

Maybe one day, with Adam, they would redecorate it. He would like that. To show Adam what was his too, he would made sure that Adam would feel good here. He would put the room in a big field with trees and some river, making their little corner of this new Heaven.

The human soul inside moved startling him. _Wow! So that’s an angel bedroom!_

_We do not sleep but yes, it is there I treat tasks and retreat to when I need to take a step back._

There was disappointment in her voice. _That’s like… your typical office_ _in_ _an…_ _office job._ _I expected something… dunno, holier?_

 _You already seen more than the oldest soul here_ _or most of the angels_ _._ He made a quiet sign with his finger. _Wait outside_ _._

With a snap, both of them were separated. The occupied vessel and the soul. There was sensitive information here, he couldn’t take the risk with a soul he barely knew. The girl looked a little freaked out by her own reflection. Or maybe by the injuries she sustained. He would take care of once he returned on Earth. _Stay here, I won’t be long._ He informed her. She nodded and stayed in the guests’ room, tight and straight, sensing she stepped in a forbidden place. He closed the door behind her.

Michael went to the terminal and put up what he knew about her parents. Archangels had more access to top information and had a different channel. Even if he connected to their database, being the only Archangel left alive (unless the baby changed a few rules), his research would go unnoticed by most of Heaven.

“I know where your parents are.” He informed announced loudly enough for her to hear it.

He closed the terminal and took a good look at his room. It felt like he had come home from eons in space. Another life that was now foreign to him. He knew he wasn’t gone that long. But. Maybe something in him broke when he fell in Hell but Michael felt like a foreigner returning to his home. He felt out of place. Strange. It was so human, that feeling.

The light was of a warmer shade, like summer rather than the neutral gray light of the rest of heaven. They had modeled the Green Room after his own room changing a few pieces of furniture, making it more ‘homely’ to lure the Winchesters. He brushed the thought and shame that had always accompanied the first years of their meeting.

That was then and this was now.

Michael was a different person now.

(Right?)

Michael stayed in the room a few moments more, flashes and feelings of his old life brushed him, like a sea breeze. His office had more of a classical design than the intelligence division or even the throne room. With typical paintings of Heaven in churches. Michael had thought not much of them, but there was something fascinating about humans’ perception of them though they were mostly inaccurate. He put these paintings all over the guests’ rooms to remind them of who they were talking to and his own role in the Apocalypse but also, he would admit, in a vain parading way.

It all turned out to be a game and lies.

However, he liked one in particular where he looked very gentle. It was the only representation of him, carefully hidden from curious eyes in his private room. One he could look at and think he could be more than the sword that would cut down his brother. When he saw it he couldn’t believe a human could think of him in such way. It had stayed in his private quarters. He looked at it back in the day, thinking of the promised day that never came but also more. He had thought of… Alternative lives and options.

He still loved it to this day without the bitterness he avoided from the others. Maybe because, deep down, when he looked at it, he dreamed of being more than a simple weapon. And that image of him gave him another ground to lay on. That he could be as merciful and beautiful as this.

(He wanted to be that to Adam.)

Michael went to the closet, making an inventory of his weapons. He was ready to come to Earth and fight Lucifer with his bare hands and lance, sure of his victory. However at one point his lance had disappeared when he put it in the general inventory. He couldn’t feel the grace anymore. He made a mental note to try and find it. He had put a lot of efforts in it.

Contrary to most angels thought, being the warrior son and general, Michael did not own a lot of weapons. He had no use of them when _he was_ the weapon.

All he found in the closet was a few ornaments, celestial clothes, holy oil and his own archangel blade. Unlike the other blades, Michael’s was longer and was only slightly twisted giving the illusion of a flaming sword, befitting of a general. The runes shined blue with grace when he touched it, illuminating the golden blade.

He took the weapon with him. Just in case, there could be a few undesirable surprises, the blade could protect him without having to use his depleted grace. Also it wouldn’t fall on prying hands in case one day someone managed to open his office.

There was nothing left in that room that really meant a thing to him. Nothing worthy to gift Adam with. He closed it, like a turning a page of his life.

He felt lighter.

Maybe because it had been a long day and he was low on grace.

(Lies.)

“Let’s go.” He said when he got out of the room. The girl was looking at the paintings and quickly followed him behind.

He flew again, not too far from here, not a big place neither. A little house with a garden.

Michael landed in the garden, at the extremity of it. “We have arrived. Your parents share this Heaven together. They wait for you, you’re safe now.”

“It’s that it?” She said. He was ready to go, looking after her from afar until she reached the house. But she did not move, even shook a little bit.

“What’s wrong?” Michael was curious. She waited all these years for her parents. Did she fear they would obliterate her too? They couldn’t, they were humans.

“I’m afraid.” She said. “I mean, I’m not their little girl any more. I’m… I’m different. What if they hate me? Who I’ve become.” Ah. Michael wished in that moment that he was the merciful and wise angel, humans made him to be but Michael didn’t know. He sincerely didn’t know how they would react. He didn’t know how they would react to her changes or his apparition. His own father did not like his changes. Why would that be different for her parents?

“It’s frightening I’d admit. How about making your own Heaven?” He said instead. “Replay your favorite memory.” At least, there would be a lower chance of getting her heart broken.

She shook her head. “It would be just a dream. It wouldn’t be real. I have to know the truth.” Ah. This sounded very Adam Milligan like. _I’d rather be with you than some fake person stuck in a loop. You’re far more interesting._ He had said. Michael missed him.

She made one step forward then walked straight to the door.

“I’m with you, then.” Michael said. He could accompany her for that. She gave him her body. Also, if they wanted to disintegrate her, he could stop them.

“What a good guardian angel!” She deadpanned. The same tongue as Adam.

He bit down a smile. “Haven’t you said that I’m polite?”

The girl grimaced at him and knocked at door. And a few moments later, a woman with tied hair came. Her eyes went wide, stopped in her tracks then put her hands on her mouth.

“…Amy?! It’s that you?!”

“… Mom.” Amy muttered. Her eyes suddenly wet. “Yeah, I’m-” The woman jumped on her daughter taking her in her arms.

“You’re here… My baby… Amy. I’m sorry… I’m sorry…” It was her turn to cry too. Michael didn’t understand what she was apologizing for. “I’m sorry, my sweet darling. I am so sorry for leaving you.” Ah. Well. The girl wouldn’t be shattered like he was then. Good. She had a painful life. She deserved that.

(He wanted that.)

Both of them cried and suddenly Michael felt like he didn’t belong here. Then without his command, his lips curved. He was smiling.

“Good bye.” He said, stepping back and leaving them alone.

Wait!” The girl, Amy, called after him under the questioning gaze of her mother. “Take care of this!” She pointed at what was once her body. “It’s years of essential oils infused cream and detoxifying tea!”

Michael did not understand what was all this oil tea was about, he would ask Adam later. “Better than new.” He answered simply.

He headed out. The girl called after him. “Hey!”

Damn. “What?”

“Thank you.”

Michael surprised himself when he smiled (again) at her. “A deal is a deal.” He said simply. “Be happy.”

He took a few steps until he was far enough from the soul between trees and stretched his wings, ready for Earth.

When he landed on Earth, Michael was tired but not drained. It took more energy to regain Heaven than to go on Earth. It was easy to fall from grace after all.

He tried to look at the star and skies, where was once his home but now were concealed by city lights and human traffic. He did not miss it but he still longed. The Earth was so new compared to his old home, dangerous even but he could manage.

With one snap, Michael let the remnants of his grace run through the body healing the damages and disease.

It now fitted him. He clenched the hand, examining it. It was very different from what he was used to. Adam’s hand was a little bit dry and hard. This one was slender and smooth.

Michael didn’t spend much time on Earth. He had things to run in Heaven. They all said that it was beneath his stallion to go on the muddy Earth with the clumsy humans. Also he had no interest, just a cold curious gaze down from time to time. It looked so… messy compared to Heaven that he recoiled. Raphael didn’t help either.

The rare times he’d been on, he had taken mostly male vessels but it had been just a coincidence that one of Abel and Cain’s grand children at that time had been a man. Though he remembered taking a few females too. He didn’t really care about the vessel’s sex though he knew some rare angels had a type either by personal preference or care for a particular host. (Those were to be watched because of their attachment to the soul of the vessels).

(Now he had become one of those.)

Nothing had changed for him. Whatever he was wearing, it didn’t change who he really was. The girl was less sturdy than John Winchester but a little more chunky than Adam. Her taste concerning hair was to be desired. He did not understand why she had to treat it with harsh chemicals to get an unnatural pink but there wasn’t anybody anymore to ask, only him. He’d deal with that later.

The healing spell left him a little bit shaky. There wasn’t a lot of grace left, just enough to hold him together. When his father shattered him, all of his grace had been burned up and spread across the Earth. It was impossible to retrieve it. He had to wait until it recharged itself.

He sighed.

Taking one then two steps to get used to his new vessel, Michael went to specific location where he could rest: a church in his name. The one he took refuge when The Rapture began. He felt uneasy to go back there but that was the only location he knew.

Unlike last time, he sensed humans. Casting a cloaking spell over him, Michael entered it. There wasn’t anybody at this hour but it did feel warm when he went in. An energy destined to him and he tried to take as much as possible.

He sit on one of the benches, trying to absorb all the prayers to him. It wouldn’t heal him but it helped to soothe his grace, giving it a little bit more of strength. Slowly Michael felt his consciousness faltering in a peaceful, unthinking state.

Was that new? Sleeping. Was it because of the Empty or his low grace or the half human child-

Before his could think further, Michael fell in a deep slumber, not noticing a portrait of himself, triumphing over his brother above his resting head.


	4. Chapter 4

  
  


“ _Do humans think of a destined purpose?” Michael asked one day._

_Adam tried to make a thick crepe called ‘pancakes’ in the dream of their shared mind. He turned his back to him. “What do you mean?”_

“ _Do you live for something? A task?”_

_Adam scratched his head. “Some people would say they work everyday to put a meal on their table. Others by passion.”_

_Michael tilted his head. He had observed them, tending to animals, tilling the Earth to eat. After all, their bodies were very fragile compared to God’s other creations. However, Michael had seen that they had now various jobs. Ones that did not serve the purpose of their direct survival. “Do they… Do that for their whole life? My Father gave you free will but do you actually chose your purpose in life?”_

“ _You mean thinking about the future? Yes we do, but… we don’t have one purpose, our destiny constantly shifts.”_

_Shifting? Michael did not understand. How one could live day by day without knowing what he could do? Also, destiny was one linear events that lead to an unchanging ending. That was destiny in its purest from was about. Defying it would be… blasphemous like Lucifer and he paid the consequences. “Sounds terrifying.” He muttered._

_Adam laughed. “Not really. From my perspective, it’s full of possibilities. The story of your own life where you get to write it.”_

_The more Adam talked, the more Michael was confused but it was really fascinating. To listen to this kid and his strange perspective on life. It was watching some kind of a new story everyday, it made hell less boring. Though what he said was strange. Everything had been already written by his father, so why do they think they could change it? When they were so little and fragile?_

_Yet, Michael did not want to upset Adam, so he played along. “So… What did you write for yourself?”_

_Adam looked up at the ceiling, searching through his memories. “Hmm. Nothing big to be honest. Going to med school, get married and be the father I’ve never had.”_

“ _Sounds good.” Michael had seen several human images of doctors when he was on Earth, either they were all old or serious as Raphael. This lanky and sarcastic kid, stuck in hell of all things in Creation and who wouldn’t stop charring his pancakes_ _(_ _even in an illusion_ _)_ _did not match what was Michael’s idea of a doctor supposed to be. Even less with little waggling and drooling toddlers in his arms. But the image he pictured in his head was funny enough to bring a smile on his lips._

“ _And you? Any plans if we get out?”_

_Of course he did. “My whole life…” Michael began then faltered. He shouldn’t be. He was sure. He knew who he was. “The purpose of my existence from the moment Lucifer rebelled was to fight in the Apocalypse. If we ever get out… Going back to Heaven, I guess.”_

_His mouth and mind struggled to get the words right. Why? The answer was so easy and obvious? Why was that such a struggle? It was like… Going back to before should have been reassuring. That was home. That was all the things he was created for. Why saying these left such a heavy feeling in his heart? Why? Almost crushing him and imprisoning him. Ironic since he is in a cage for almost three hundred years yet felt so… freeing? Why such contradiction? Angels weren’t made for that._

_(He_ _imagined to be_ _like Adam with his numerous possibilities._ _It wasn’t that frightening._ _)_

_(Did he really want to go back to Heaven when they all forgot about him?)_

_These were the thoughts of rebellion. Hell must have corrupted his heart. Michael quickly dissipated them. Secretly thankful for Adam’s presence that kept him righteous. Giving him a purpose: protecting him. Michael shouldn’t let himself be led astray like this. He was strong. These silly ideas and stories were for humans, his father had said so. Michael wasn’t Lucifer._

_He would return to Heaven and if not fighting Lucifer, running over it and make right and worthy of his father probable return. And he would return. Michael would anything to show him that even without the Apocalypse, what Michael had created or rather,_ salvaged _was deserving of his father’s love._

_Also, he was an angel, his place was in Heaven._

“ _You know I got new plans now.” Adam interrupted his thoughts. Michael turned his head towards him. His curiosity at his peak. Adam gave him a slight but sincere smile. “Now I just want to get out of here and share with you burgers.”_

_Michael smiled back. He tried to imagine both of them in one of these greasy restaurants Adam tried to summon in their shared dream, it brought a smile on his face. “Sounds like a plan here.” He could return to Heaven but it didn’t mean he couldn’t have a little time for himself._

“ _Promise?” Adam smiled._

“ _Promise.”_

****

Michael opened his eyes in a jolt when his neck dropped abruptly.

He took time to re-familiarize himself with this new vessel. Making circles with the chin, spreading his grace of what was now his cells. He was alone in the body after all. All he could do to pay back such present was to take care of it.

The night in the St. Michael had replenished him, he could feel it through his wings, how firmer and surer they were. Though it would take months or even years for him to regain his full grace. There was many conjectures to take into account: how much he would rest, many spells and fly he had to use etc. Difficult to say but that was a start.

Michael did not know if that was a side effect of his shattering or death or maybe this kid had changed something in him when he was resurrected, fact now he could feel in a deep state of relaxation and emptiness akin to sleep for humans. Except he did not dream, he did not remember what was in his mind when he was in this state. Just a big pitch black darkness like in the Empty and unlike it, he was relaxed.

Would he dream someday? Adam had explained to him once about the nonsensical scenarios his human brain came up with and he had seen enough from observing humans to not wanting to test it. Ever.

He blinked once, twice, waking up slowly not realizing how human this was then turned his head to find himself next to an old woman staring disapprovingly at him. In fact compared to yesterday, the church was full of people and somehow during his sleep, his spell had faded.

“Fuck!” Michael allowed himself to curse.

The elderly woman at his left frowned disapprovingly at him. “Watch your tongue, young lady. What would Saint Michael would say if he saw you sleeping like this during God’s sermons? And dressing like that…” They was a faint sound of disgust in her voice at the sight of the delicate black brace of his shirt which Michael ignored. If you only knew how little I care right now or even He cared.

“Now, hush…” She admonished him.

Michael left discreetly.

The sun was high when he stepped outside. A new day then. Michael could now focus on his objective.

Where was Adam? Looking for a job? Did he reach out to the Winchesters? He hoped not. They were trouble. He only wished that Adam was safe and happy. That was the thing that mattered the most.

Michael flew to the place where he had last seen him. In the big abbey in Europe. Maybe he was still there, lost and waiting for him. Maybe he could sense some energy. A clue. Anything.

The world was back to its previous state. The spot where they had been was crowded as ever. When he landed Michael knew that Adam was not longer there. He couldn’t feel the waves of his soul.

Then where was he? He closed his eyes, there was… There was a faint celestial energy beside his. An angel had flown there. Looking through the ground, he found a tiny feather stuck between two tiles. Untouched by humans and physical winds, it was incorporeal and only angels could see them. Not even a long one. Not it was almost newborn. Angels rarely lost their feathers, only in very few scenarios such as a fledgling with its new not fully formed wings or when they were broken by a spell or very low on grace. A feather of his could be a good ingredient for some malicious sorcerer so Michael had always made sure that they burned as they fell on the ground or properly charged to avoid any discharge.

Michael picked up the feather, analyzing its energy. Fury tainted his grace.

 _Castiel_.

So he had come back too.

Adam returned to his brothers after all.

Now the question was: where were the Winchesters?

Castiel was the answer to all of that. Usually where the angel was, Dean Winchester was not too far. Unlike the humans, Castiel’s grace was easily perceptible to an Archangel. With the little feather, he could track him down, a spell only known to Archangels.

It seemed that was in North America, where his energy was the strongest, and hadn’t moved around the world which eased Michael’s tracking.

Michael flew there immediately and showed up at the most recent location he’d been with the Winchesters: The bunker. He approached, feeling the forest and life around him. They weren’t there. Nor was Castiel.

He couldn’t wait here. Michael was tired of waiting. Especially with the Winchesters. It got him caged for a millennia.

Michael would lead the game this time. With the same spell, Castiel’s location was more precise once he was on the continent. Castiel did not bother to hide like he did during the Apocalypse. Was it because he was cared for by the Nephil in charge? And there was no threats anymore?

He brushed aside the curiosity. It wasn’t any of Michael’s business, he was done. He tracked Castiel easily. A little town not far from there. He flew there immediately. It was a diner from what he read on the building. A little bit more modern than the one he visited with Adam. The waitresses did not wear any uniforms. At that time of day, there were families eating on the tables near the windows, few men in the corner reading newspapers, a young bartender tying her hair.

Michael saw Dean in the corner of the room. He walked up.

“Good Morning.” He said.

Dean Winchester smiled at him with his smiteable smirk and took a bite of his plate. “Sorry darling, I’m not available anymore. Though I’m sure there’s many bachelors here.”

Michael frowned. “There’s someone in the whole Creation that would want you? Is it Castiel?” He feigned curiosity then let his grace surge through his eyes. Dean instantly readied up, letting his fork fall and making a mess on the table.

“Who are you?”

“Come on, you don’t recognize me, my true vessel?” Michael handed him a napkin, unwilling to look at the soiled table.

Dean paled. “…. Michael?”

“Yes.” As much Dean tried to conceal it (and he did a good job), Michael still picked up fear and waves of dread from possession. He never was- Oh. Right. The other Michael. No, he did not want to think about that. “From this universe.” He added then heard the click of a gun, sipping through Dean’s vest. “I am not here to fight.”

Dean squinted his eyes, his hatred for Michael clear as the day. “How did you come back? What do you want? Revenge? Siding with God once again? Restarting another Apocalypse?” He huffed tiredly. “C’mon man I’m getting old, gimme a break.”

“No.” Michael did not blink nor look away. He did not fear Dean Winchester. He was here for only one thing. “You know what I want. Adam, where is he?”

Dean frowned. “Adam? Isn’t he dead?”

Michael shook his head. That was really stupid of Dean to take him for the stupid one. “Don’t play dumb, everyone came back, so did Adam.”

Dean studied him for a moment then clenched his jaw, not bothering hiding the disgust and worry he felt. He definitely knew something. He smirked, trying to play it off. “Who says he came back to me? As you guys love diggin’ it up: I left him rot in hell for ten years. I’m not sure I’m the first in his mind.”

If Michael was human, he would have sighed. Adam was certainly lost and he did told Michael they didn’t have money. Maybe in desperation, he prayed to his brothers. “I sensed Castiel where I… last saw him. I think Castiel might have taken him to you. He is so loyal.”

Dean huffed. “Ok, let’s say I have him and let him meet you. Then what? You’re gonna repossess him again? And then ‘usher in paradise’? I’ll tell you something pal: Heaven, Hell, God… it’s startin’ to piss me off, Adam is better without it.”

Michael rubbed his temples, trying to contain the rising anger in him. Couldn’t he just tell him where Adam was? “You pretend to know what Adam want.” He said instead.

Dean took a sip of water then asked: “Don’t you think you all ruined his life enough like this?”

What did he imply by that? Was that Michael’s fault?

How could he say that?

(Why did everyone hate him? Making everything so complicated? His father, Dean, his brother… Was he that-)

Michael patience was running thin. He was ready to snap after this nightmare week. He just wanted to punch Dean until he told him. But Michael was above that. He did not wish for bloodshed. He just wanted peace.

He exhaled and carefully considered his next words. Dean Winchester wasn’t an innocent and righteous man. “I ruined his life?” He sneered, gritting his teeth. “Was it me who constantly ran from my destiny? Was it me that had forgotten him in the cage? No. I was there for him.”

“And then what? You got him and you guys go on a date and get married in Las Vegas? Don’t you think he suffered enough?” He took a bite of his plate then pointed a finger at Michael. “You’ve got no right to sermon me, Michael. Not when you betrayed us for Daddy Dearest. Oh, and by the way, what do you think Adam felt when he learned that?”

What?

Dread replaced anger immediately.

Adam knew about him? Dean had told him? Of course, Dean had told him. Michael was stupid. Adam must hate him. He must find him. To tell him, that-… That what?

There was also indignation. What did he tell him? That was Michael’s story too. Adam didn’t have Michael’s side of the story. But … Michael did betray them. He-

He stayed quiet under Dean’s eyes who continued to drink. Finally, Michael replied. If he could admit it, he almost sounded desperate. “I will stay away from your hunting. No monster would dare to touch me. Nor I am interested to end the world. I just want to find Adam. Now tell me _where is he?_ ” Fury made the words more menacing than he expected. Good. He could have begged but he was Michael and he never did that to anybody except his father. Michael let his grace ran through his eyes, making them glow, to put emphasis on. He was still the first Archangel, the most powerful even low on grace.

“Yeah, Buttercup? If you want to know where Adam is, you gotta be a good angel and get out of here with or I’ll plant this nice Archangel’s blade through your knees.” Michael felt something cold in his left leg. He looked down. It was an archangel blade. He got distracted by Adam’s news. That wasn’t good. “Oh and by the way, nice legs. Where did you get that?” He indicated his new vessel with a nod. “Some hot nun prayed to you?”

Before he could do anything, Michael felt Castiel behind him, a blade to his back. A regular one. It wouldn’t kill him but it would certainly wound him in this state.

“Michael. Please, let’s not make a commotion here.” Castiel pleaded.

Michael sighed. Dean didn’t leave his eyes off him as he spoke to Castiel. “Cas, you still got those angel’s cuffs with you? Why don’t you give them to our friend Michael here?”

Michael warned them as Castiel passed the cuffs through his wrists. “You know its power is only temporary.”

Dean said behind him.“Enough for us to get out of here.”

“Please Michael, let’s talk about all of this far from here.” Castiel added, always sounding very defeated, while the three of them left the bar without any notice. What happened?

“Where is Adam?” He reiterated the question. He let them take him in. After all, only them knew where Adam was. He was sure now between Castiel’s guilt tone and Dean’s avoidance.

Michael still had his blade with him in case things turned ugly. He asked again, tired. “I know he’d been brought back and I know he’d been with Castiel this means he’d been with you.”

It was Castiel who spoke, sitting on the seat next to Michael to watch him. “He called to me but… We need to know what happened to you. How come you’re back? Was it Adam who did it?”

It was slight but Michael saw Dean shook his head. He narrowed his eyes.

So Castiel did fetch Adam. Despite their difficult history, Michael was reassured. Castiel was not threat. Adam had met Castiel, it meant that somehow he trusted them enough to call for help. However, Michael felt something else there too. Also, why would they think Adam did it?

Fine, if he wanted to get answers about Adam’s whereabouts then he could play with them for a moment.

“If it was Adam, I wouldn’t be here, walking right into your trap.” Michael said then looked at the Archangel blade in Castiel’s hand, frowning. “You seem to like this Archangel blade very much.” Michael said once their car hit the road.

“That’s for business. We think some angel or whatever is having a nice meal with human souls around here. Better to have two blades than one. He still escaped us. But we got another fish, right Cas?”

“It is an angel, we’ve found some feathers. One from the Fall. I’m trying to look through Heaven’s archive to know which one it is.”

“An angel.” Michael repeated. Castiel had now access to the archives? He was seraph, right but who knew with this child in charge. “How low.”

“Indeed.” Castiel said wistfully, looking outside. He was clearly avoiding Michael.

“High coming from you, buddy.” Dean said and it took all of Michael’s patience to not make his stupid car explode as he slowly turned his attention to the drive.

“Where is Sam?” He choose to ask instead.

“He’s got business.” Dean responded lightly as if they were acquaintances, pretending not to fear Michael.

“And Adam?” Michael reiterated.

“Adam is not with us.” Dean repeated.

“Lies.” Michael sneered but deep inside, he could detect that Dean Winchester was not lying and it made his anger even worse.

Dean looked at Castiel through the mirror. “See? He won’t listen.”

“Dean…” Castiel turned his head at Michael then frowned. “Michael… we… what do you remember? Where have you been?”

“ _Everything_.” Michael replied with confidence, hiding his confusion. “Your plans. My betrayal. Father’s wrath. Then the Empty then I searched for Adam and you.”

Castiel’s reaction was not what Michael expected. Instead of interest, there was confusion and even worry. “Michael… Do you… do you know where you are? What day are we?” Castiel asked, tilting his head, his eyes betraying confusion and… he seemed to be worried.

“Come on Cas, he is a stubborn asshole not a socially inept baby.”

“Wait, Dean… Michael?” Michael frowned. What was that question? After Chuck’s obliterated everyone, his resurrection and helping the girl, it had been two or three days. Something must have shown on his face because Castiel’s worried face changed to a pitiful one. “Michael. It’s been two years since you died.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i thought that was a hundred year since i last updated but it was only a week wtf  
> also the michael and dean meeting is wild all bets are off, you are all free to speculate ❤️


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